


Taking Time

by empirium



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Durincest, Incest, Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empirium/pseuds/empirium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the kink meme.</p><p>Modern!AU. After five years, Fili finally returns home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt at the kink meme was: Kili and Fili, still as brothers, in a modern AU setting! Angst it up if you'd like (I love angst), but I'd love a reluctant Fili being being wooed into bed by Kili. (http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/2235.html?thread=3481531#t3481531)

 

Fili sighed as he stepped onto the boat, the twisted knot in his stomach weighing heavier than before. The afternoon weather was fair with gulls crying out overhead and a pleasant, salty breeze blowing the scent of the ocean into his nostrils. The waves were slow for this time of day and the ride to the island city of Dale was fraught with boredom. There was no raging sea monster to try to climb aboard and neither were there any pirates; just the water, the boat and its crew, the passengers, and Fili.  
  
When they landed at the pier, Fili was consumed with a feeling of uneasy nostalgia. He rubbed his hand over his stubble, wondering if he should have shaved in the morning, but quickly banished the thought from his mind. Dale hadn't changed much in his time away; the colorful street vendors were all lined in a row on the main street selling their wares, though mostly, they sold fish this far out on the docks.  
  
It wasn’t easy taking that first step towards a home that he didn’t particularly feel inclined to go back to, but he had to. Great-grandfather Thror, Grandpa Thrain, and Uncle Frerin had passed away. Uncle Thorin, now the family patriarch, had called for a meeting and everyone was to be there. Fili didn’t have very many memories of his Great-grandfather, though he remembered Grandpa Thrain and Uncle Frerin fondly; they had spoiled Kili and him rotten when they were younger and had still lived in the Durin Estate.  
  
The Durin Estate—established back sometime in the eighteen hundreds—was a mansion built on the mountain of Erebor, which their family owned, Fili supposed. He never saw the deed for it, but he remembered being hoisted into his grandpa’s arms and being shown the sight of the island at the tallest veranda. His mother had pitched a fit at Grandpa Thrain for bringing him that high up, but Fili never forgot the view.  
  
When Fili looked past the buildings that made up the city of Dale, he could see the winding road that led up to the castle gates, where two giant stone statues stood guard.  
  
 _Nothing’s changed_ , he thought as he slowly made his way off the pier.  
  
“Excuse me!”  
  
Fili jerked out of his thoughts to look at a curly haired man that had stepped off the boat with him. The man wasn’t particularly tall, just a bit shorter than Fili himself, and he carried a rather large backpack with him. He wore practical clothes and didn’t stand out in the slightest. In his hands he held a map of the island.  
  
“Hi, sorry,” the man said, flashing a quick apologetic smile. “Do you think you can direct me to Arkenstone Road? I can’t find it on the map.”  
  
Fili raised an eyebrow. “Not using a GPS in this day and age?” he asked.

The man grimaced. “I’m not good with technology,” he replied. “So, do you know…?”  
  
Fili nodded and readjusted the strap of his duffle bag. “I’m headed there,” Fili said slowly as he scrutinized the map holding man. “Do you want to come with?”  
  
For a moment, the stranger looked at him dubiously. When he reached some sort of mental decision, he sighed and said; “Sure. Why not. I’m certain you’re not an axe murderer.”  
  
To Fili’s surprise, he laughed. He felt a little better at that, the ugly ball of tension in his gut lessening. He held out a hand to the stranger. “Call me Fili,” he said.  
  
“Bilbo,” the man replied, shaking Fili’s hand with a surprisingly strong grip. Despite the odd name—not that Fili could judge, really—Bilbo made Fili smile; he tended to like people who had a firm handshake.  
  
“Is this your first time to Dale?” Fili asked, guiding Bilbo out to the street where they could hail a cab. They exchanged small talk until they managed to get one and when Fili directed their driver to the Durin Estate, Bilbo turned to him with a frown of suspicion.  
  
“How did you know I was going there?” he asked.  
  
Fili slumped in his seat and let his head roll against the headrest as the cab moved through the streets, honking as bicyclists and pedestrians alike crossed its path. “The only thing that Arkenstone Road leads to is the Durin Estate,” Fili said as he watched the city pass by in a slow whirl of movement. “So really, I should be asking you why you’re going there. You don’t look like a journalist or paparazzi. Are you a burglar?”  
  
Bilbo scowled at that. “I am none of those,” he said. “I was asked to be there so I’m not some stranger waltzing in uninvited. And you? Why are you going?”

Fili mentally went through a list of who would invite Bilbo, this odd, plain looking man, to their family home and could only come up with a handful of names. Then again, he’d only had brief contact with them for the past five years so he couldn’t really say. He admonished the thought.  
  
“Family event,” he said simply.  
  
The scowl on Bilbo’s face softened when realization dawned. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said. His words were quiet in the din of the cab.  
  
“Thanks,” Fili replied automatically. He crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stare out the window, the atmosphere between them having grown awkward. As Erebor loomed closer, he found himself less and less willing to talk and the trepidation he had been feeling all day wrapped itself around him like a cloak, leaving him chilled and nauseous.  
  
When they arrived at the gates, the driver slowed to a halt. “Sorry, gentlemen, but I can’t go through,” he said apologetically.  
  
Fili gave the man a strained smile, paid him—and some extra for the tip—grabbed his bag, and got out of the car with Bilbo stumbling out after him. Fili walked up to the buzzer, pressed it, and waited for someone to answer. Normally, it’d be answered immediately, but it took three tries before someone picked up.  
  
“Hello, sorry,” a harried voice said from the speaker. “Who is this?”  
  
Even through the static, after five long years of self-imposed exile, Fili recognized the voice immediately. It was hard to forget the voice of his brother, especially since they’d spent so much time together in their youths, that they were nearly inseparable. Kili sounded well.  
  
“Fili,” he said slowly, clearly breathless and shocked. Immediately, the gates started to roll back and there was an audible click as Kili hung up the intercom.  
  
The old iron wrought gates had been replaced by electronic ones in the last decade; Fili still remembered how heavy the old gates were and how much he had loved to play and climb all over them until once, the gates closed on his hand and he couldn’t get it out. It had been painful and when Uncle Thorin had discovered him, had rushed him off to the hospital. He had fractured several bones in his hands that day and both his mother, Dis, and Uncle Thorin had persuaded Great-grandfather Thror to allow them to install a new gate.  
  
Fili led the way up the pathway to the mansion, aware that Bilbo was taking in the sights as he walked. There was a large circular fountain out in front, the water from it flowing in a steady cadence. Around it were many parked cars, something that rarely happened from what Fili remembered, and it was probably because the garage was full. The Durin Estate was huge and fit to accommodate a large family, but the only times anyone ever came out to the island was during Christmas and New Year. The cars parked were all simple and nondescript; there was an old Volvo with a dent in its passenger side door, an ugly orange Toyota, and a small red Fiat that looks like it had seen better days.  
  
“Isn’t your family rich?” Bilbo asked when he saw the cars.  
  
“Yes,” Fili replied. “The only ones in my family that really cared about upholding some sort of image had been my great-grandfather and grandfather. The rest of us are a bit more…practical.”  
  
Bilbo looked rather dubiously at that and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “practical, my arse” under his breath.  
  
They went up the front steps to the large slate colored door and before Fili needed to press the doorbell, it was flung open.  
  
Kili stared back at him, eyes wide and one hand still on the knob of the door. He was taller than Fili remembered him to be, his hair longer, but his smile hasn’t changed; it was still bright and vivacious, one that reached his eyes and lit up his whole face. Fili didn’t even manage a word before Kili had grabbed him in a giant bear hug.  
  
Fili couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips as he brought an arm around to pat Kili on the back. “Hello to you too,” he managed to say without croaking like a frog.  
  
Kili laughed, gave him one last squeeze, and pulled back. “You cut your hair,” he said, looking Fili up and down. “You look…good.”  
  
“Thanks,” Fili said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He couldn’t look Kili in the eyes and instead opted to stare at the spot behind his head. “Can we come in?”  
  
It was the first time during the whole exchange that Kili noticed Bilbo standing there and his smile faded a shade as he looked back and forth between Bilbo and Fili. “Yes, of course, come in. Who’s this?”  
  
So it wasn’t Kili who invited him, Fili noted.  
  
“I’m Bilbo Baggins. Thorin’s expecting me,” Bilbo said, sounding a bit cross. “As is Gandalf, if he’s here.”  
  
“Oh!” Kili said and the smile came back full force. “You’re Mister Baggins. We weren’t sure you were going to show. Uncle’s in the study with Gandalf right now so it’s probably best that you go quickly. I think they’re having another disagreement.” He gestured down the hallway. “The study’s down there, last door on the left. If you get lost, just listen for yelling.”  
  
“I’ll take your backpack,” Fili interrupted when he sensed that Bilbo was going to leave the two of them alone. “I’ll put you in the guest room next to Thorin’s.”  
  
“Oh, thank you,” Bilbo said, blinking owlishly before shrugging off the giant backpack he had on. It was heavier than it looked and landed on the floor with a thump. “I’m going to go see who’s still alive. Thanks, Fili.” He gave Fili a tight smile before heading off in the direction that Kili pointed out.  
  
Fili returned the smile with a nod of his head and squared his shoulders as Kili shut the front door. He grabbed Bilbo’s backpack, hefting it up with no problem, and went for the stairs, taking two at a time in silence. He was aware of an echo following his footsteps, but he didn’t look back and neither did he say anything.

Thorin’s room was still the furthest room out in the mansion; his overlooked the gardens and part of the sea, though Fili recalled it to be large and bare, except for an opulent four poster bed that he and Kili liked to jump on when they were children. The room next to Thorin’s was empty but well-made and clean, so he dropped Bilbo’s bag next to the bed and shut the door. He went back down the hallway until he stopped in front of his childhood room.  
  
The gold colored handle still gleamed against the deep brown of the door, as if waiting for someone to grasp and turn it to reveal the inside, and Fili felt like he was seven again and going to his room was a punishment. Fili shut his eyes and took a deep breath, counted to three in his head, and opened them. He turned the handle.  
  
The windows in his room were all open, the shutters letting in the bright afternoon light. Someone had taken to redecorating his room. His bed had been replaced, no longer the small mattress that he slept on as a child, but a large four poster bed similar to what he remembered his uncle had. An oak desk had been shoved against the far corner, a lamp standing next to it. The posters that he remembered plastering to the walls were gone and instead, there was a fresh coat of paint over them, his once blue-colored walls now an eggshell white. His toy box remained at the foot of the bed, a strange juxtaposition with the rest of the room.  
  
“Mine got redone too.”  
  
Fili had almost forgotten that Kili was there.  
  
“It’s different,” Fili said, setting down his duffle bag. Lined up neatly next to the dresser were the rest of his belongings that had arrived before him. He set about to unpacking, aware that Kili was still staring at him, half way in the room and half way out, like he couldn’t make up his mind whether to come in or not.  
  
“Do you know who Bilbo is?” Fili asked before Kili could make up his mind. “I didn’t know that guests were invited to this…event.”  
  
Kili leaned against the doorframe and raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve never met him before today,” Kili said. “But he’s Uncle’s secretary.”  
  
Fili was determined to not make a face at that and instead focused on putting his clothes away in the closet. He knew he was in for a long haul, at least a month or maybe more. This was his first week free of his five year commission with the military and he had nowhere to go. He hadn’t wanted to move in with Dis and her beau and he hadn’t contacted anyone else aside from Thorin, who had been the one to stubbornly butt his nose into Fili’s life.  
  
“I would have thought he’d hire a lady,” Fili said, taking his new uniform out of box. It was still crisp, having been worn only a handful of times. He hung it in the farthest reaches of his closet, placing it behind some winter jackets.  
  
“How…” Kili trailed off and Fili chanced a look at him. Kili was staring into his closet. “How was it? I heard from Mum you got hurt.”  
  
“Just a nick,” Fili said. “I was fine after they patched me up.”  
  
Kili was looking at him now, the smile having long disappeared. “She said it was a bullet wound.”  
  
“It was a nick from a bullet,” Fili said, returning to his clothes. “It wasn’t anything serious.”  
  
All of a sudden, Kili was no longer hovering at the edge of the room, but inside and crowding into Fili’s personal space. He was brought into sudden awareness of just how tall Kili had gotten and while Fili had kept in shape thanks to his stint in the military, he couldn’t help but notice just how different the Kili standing before him and the Kili of his memories were. The beanpole that dogged his every step was gone and replaced with a lithe adult body that Fili did not recognize.  
  
“It wasn’t anything serious,” Kili echoed in the same tone he would use when he was about to pitch a fit. “It was five and a half years and it wasn’t anything serious?”  
  
Fili glared, hackles rising. “Don’t even—”  
  
“You run away for five and a half years and all you have to say to me is that it wasn’t anything serious?!” Kili was absolutely furious. “Why are you doing this? What have I done?”  
  
“You know exactly why,” Fili snapped, turning away. He shouldn’t have because Kili took that as opportunity to press against him, pushing him down onto the bed in surprise. He struggled, pushing back against Kili to get out of the hold he’s been put in.  
  
“Damn you,” Kili wheezed when Fili jabbed him in the chest. “You owe me an explanation!” He redoubled his efforts to pin Fili down and the only reason Fili let him was because he knew he could escape if he wanted to. “Why—why did you leave?” Kili was sitting on his torso, his face inches away from Fili’s own.  
  
“You know why,” Fili hissed, glaring. “There’s no way that—it couldn’t—we’re brothers.”  
  
Kili’s face twisted into an ugly expression as he reeled back a fist and Fili decided that enough was enough and threw Kili to the floor. Kili looked shocked from where he laid, eyes wide, chest heaving. Though they’d roughhoused before, Fili had never been violent with him in any capacity. He had never been able to, but now. Oh, how he wanted to just lay it into Kili, but if they showed up at the funeral tomorrow cut and bruised, there was going to be many strong words and lectures to sit through.  
  
“You got stronger,” Kili said finally after a moment of silence. Fili had righted himself and was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring down at Kili, wondering what he would do next.  
  
“Of course I did,” Fili snapped without thinking.  
  
He was so angry—at Kili for making him feel this way, at Thorin for making him come back, at himself for coming back—that he almost missed that Kili was speaking.  
  
“You know that I don’t care,” Kili was saying quietly, laying an arm over his head and bouncing a leg off the floor as if he decided to just stay there and relax. The carpet was soft and plush enough that it was probably comfortable, Fili thought bitterly. “I never cared. And I know that you didn’t care either.”  
  
Fili heaved a deep breath and got up to shut the door. When he did, he let Kili pull him to the floor, lying side by side to stare up at the ceiling. They didn’t say anything for the longest time, just watching the light from the window slant itself against the confines of the room.  
  
“We were so wrapped up in each other,” Fili croaked when the anger gave way to bitterness and melancholy. “I was so invested in you that it was unhealthy.” Kili made some sort of noise, though he didn’t interrupt. “God, you were so young then, such a brat. And I was just as immature,” Fili remedied when Kili swatted him on the arm. “I had to do some growing up too.”  
  
“Five and a half years,” Kili said slowly. “To the day. Is that enough time for growing up?”  
  
Fili closed his eyes. “I missed you, of course,” he said, and then quieter than a whisper: “I left because I couldn’t watch you fall in love with someone else.”  
  
He could practically feel Kili tense up next to him at that. “I didn’t,” Kili protested. “Not really, not the way that I’m—”  
  
“You still did,” Fili said and Kili fell silent. “How is she?”  
  
At first, he didn’t think Kili would answer, but slowly, hesitantly, he heard: “We don’t talk anymore.”  
  
There wasn’t a clock in the room, but judging from the light coming from the window, it was starting to get late. Dinner would be served soon and everyone was going to be there as far as Fili could tell. It would be the first time in half a decade that he’d be seeing his family, his cousins, his uncles, his aunts. Everyone would be asking him why he left so suddenly and as he thought, Fili couldn’t think of an excuse to give. He turned to look at Kili, who had closed his eyes and stopped bouncing his leg on the floor.  
  
“What did you do?”  
  
There was a slight flicker of a frown on Kili’s face, but it smoothed out. “Nothing,” he said. “I fell out of love.” He turned to Fili, opening his eyes. They were in such close proximity that Fili could feel Kili’s breath intermingling with his.  
  
Fili couldn’t smile or offer any kind of reassurance, not even when his mind was racing to find something to say, but all he could see was Kili and his dark eyes and the way they were mired with emotion. Kili had always been Fili’s anchor, and even now he still was. Fili closed his eyes and brought their foreheads together in lieu of speaking, a small part of him relishing in the fact that Kili was beside him again, yet another part of him despairing that after all this time, he was falling into old habits.  
  
“Can I touch you?” Kili murmured, the words vibrating against Fili’s skin. Fili kept his eyes closed.  
  
“Don’t,” he said, quiet. He felt Kili’s noiseless sigh, though his brother did not pull away. They laid there, soaking in each other’s presence, and somehow, Fili fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
==  
  
Fili woke up to the sound of gunfire in his ears. He blinked, disoriented for a moment when he wasn’t in his bunk with his garrison, but in a strangely familiar room from his memories. He was at Erebor, he realized, at his family home; he relaxed momentarily until he saw that Kili was still asleep next to him. The sun had nearly disappeared from the sky, only a remnant of gold streaking through the clouds. The temperature was starting to lower and Fili felt a slight chill against his skin.  
  
The loud thumping sound that Fili mistook for gunfire echoed again through the hall, this time accompanied by someone yelling: “Kili! Kili! Are you in there? Come down for dinner!”  
  
They were knocking at Kili’s empty room from across the hall, he realized. No one else aside from Kili and possibly Thorin even knew he was home yet. He looked over at Kili, who had his mouth partially opened as he slept and Fili smiled to himself at the sight. He sat up, stretched, and pulled on the first jumper he grabbed a hold of.  
  
“Hey,” he said as he shook Kili’s leg. “Get up. Dinner.”  
  
Kili mumbled something and his eyelids flickered, but he didn’t actually wake. Fili shook him harder.  
  
“Kili,” he called, “wake up.”  
  
Kili’s hand shot out and grabbed him by the front of his jumper. “You’re home,” he muttered, pulling Fili tight against him. “You’re here.”  
  
It was disorienting the way Kili was clinging to him, but pleasant and warm. It was almost like when they were children, still innocent, taking comfort in each other during a stormy night. Fili brushed his fingers against the crown of Kili’s head, touching the thick, dark hair.  
  
“I’m here,” he said quietly into Kili’s ear. “It’s dinner time.”  
  
“Yeah,” Kili said, his hand still fisted at the front of Fili’s clothes. Fili slowly pried his jumper free of Kili’s fingers.  
  
“Come on, let’s go. I haven’t seen Mum yet,” Fili said lightly, walking towards the door. When Kili just stared instead of following, Fili rolled his eyes in exaggerated exasperation. “I see you got dull in the time I was away.”  
  
That seemed to spur Kili into action. “What? You’re dull!” Kili snipped, pushing past Fili and into the hall.  
  
“Don’t be such a brat,” Fili muttered, chuckling under his breath as he followed his brother to the downstairs dining room.  
  
For a dinner served on the eve of several funerals, Fili could hear the noise from the stairs and he imagined the chaos inside the dining room to be near unmanageable. There were sounds of yelling and arguing and silverware clacking on dishes; this was all so familiar to Fili that he felt his stomach flip-flop where he stood, pausing on the precipice of the stairs. Kili gave him a look, but didn’t comment. He waited patiently at the large double doors of the dining room for Fili to join him.  
  
“You always know how to make an entrance,” Fili said, stepping up next to him.  
  
“Live with Uncle long enough and you’ll learn a thing or two,” Kili replied cheekily as he swung the doors opened, arms splayed proudly in the air. The noise died in a quick decrescendo as everyone turned to look at them.  
  
Everyone—literally everyone, as far as Fili could see—was there, arranged around an extended dining room table. Uncles Oin and Gloin, who both had grey hair now, and Gloin’s wife, Leto, were present and paused in the midst of chewing with their mouths open. A young man with a full beard of red hair sat next to them, eyes on his smartphone and furiously texting away; it took Fili several moments to realize that it was his younger cousin Gimli, who wasn’t quite as small as he remembered. The distant cousins were there as well; Dori, the eldest was greying prematurely, Nori, the middle sibling who brought the most notoriety to the family, and Ori, who was just several months younger than Kili and was working on a doctorate in Literature, according to the last update Thorin had given him.  
  
Sitting near the head of the table were Uncles Dwalin and Balin; Thorin’s cousins, trusted council, and closest friends. Next to them were Dain and his wife, a frizzy haired brunette that Fili never remembered the name of, and their son. Bilbo was seated at the table too, along with Gandalf—the busybody lawyer that had to be the oldest person to walk the earth—who simply stared at Fili and Kili with knowing, twinkling eyes. Thorin had a brooding look on his face, but a smile on his lips that Fili couldn’t help but echo. His uncle, previously black haired, had silver streaking through it now and the beginnings of crows feet lining the edge of his eyes.  
  
It was Dis that rose from her seat and ran to Fili, pulling him into her arms before he knew it. He hugged her back just as tightly. She was warm and soft and Fili had missed her terribly in the time that he was away.  
  
“You daft child,” she scolded the moment she pulled away. “Not a letter, a phone call, a note—I had to hear from Thorin, of all people!” She kept a hand on his elbow as she steered him towards the empty seat beside her. Kili trailed along, grinning like a loon as he took a seat on the opposite side of Fili. “When did you get here? Did you settle in alright? Oh, look at you.” She swept a hand through his short cropped hair, her eyes starting to become bright and glassy. “Five years and look at what I miss.”  
  
“You didn’t miss much,” Fili said, patting her awkwardly on the arm.  
  
“Much?!” Dis echoed and that was when Fili noticed the half emptied goblet of wine. “You were god knows where getting shot at and I didn’t know if they were going to send you home in a box!” She started to cry in earnest, clinging to Fili’s arm like a lifeline. Fili sent a bewildered look to Thorin, who shrugged and continued to eat as if nothing was out of place. Everyone else continued on in spite of Dis crying, leaving Fili floundering until Kili stepped in.  
  
“Mum,” Kili said, filling Fili’s plate with a little bit of everything on the table. “Fili hasn’t eaten yet.”  
  
“I haven’t seen him in five years, he can wait a bit to eat,” she snapped peevishly and clung tighter to Fili. It was embarrassing as much as it was a great relief and comfort to him. He had thought she’d be furious with him for running off like that, and in a way, she was. But she was his mother and she loved him and he had never felt it more keenly. He hugged her back at an awkward angle and pressed a kiss to her temple.  
  
“Mum, I’m here now. I’m home,” Fili said. “I won’t disappear if you let go.”  
  
“You better not,” Kili muttered as he piled his own plate full of food—mostly the barbequed chicken legs and a few deviled eggs and nothing else. “You run off like that again, I’m going after you just to kick your ass.”  
  
Dis gave a garbled laugh and sob, squeezed him once more, and pulled away. “Eat your dinner,” she said, and then, quieter; “I asked Bombur to make all your favorites. Go thank him later.”  
  
“I know,” Fili said, picking up his fork to spear an egg. “I’ve never been this hungry in my life.”  
  
Dinner was the oddest affair that Fili had to sit through; his mother would break out into tears every so often when someone would tell a story about Great-grandfather Thror, Grandpa Thrain, or Uncle Frerin. She’d alternate between laughter and tears and Fili was at a loss of what to do. He had never seen his mother like this before. She ate little, but focused more on drinking until she was red in the face. Others were in similar states of melancholy and mourning, and at one point Balin had turned to him and said, “I wish you could have come back to a happier feast.”  
  
When dinner was over, Fili set off to find Bombur, the family chef. He knew that the portly man would be in the kitchens, as he loved to eat food as much as he loved to cook it, and Fili remembered when he would always be looking forward to Bombur’s cooking when he visited Erebor in his late teens.  
  
Bombur—along with the housekeeper and gardener, both relations of his—were there, helping him clean the large quantity of dishes that had been used during dinner.  
  
“Laddie!” Bofur exclaimed, the first one to spot him. “Welcome home!” He had soap on his arms, but held them out for a hug. Fili hugged him tightly because if there was one thing he’d missed most about the estate, it was Bofur.  
  
“It’s good to see you,” Fili said earnestly. “You look as young as ever.”  
  
Bofur laughed as he went back to dishwashing. “I’m glad you think so,” he said.  
  
“Don’t make him vainer than he already is,” Bombur said and Bofur flicked soap suds at him. He pulled the chicken leg that he was eating out of the way. “Oi, watch it!”  
  
Fili laughed and he stayed in the kitchens for a while, helping Bifur put food away, listening to the three of them chat about what he missed when he was gone. They were hired on as help about eight years ago at the worst of the recession; Bombur’s food was world class, Bifur did wonders to maintain the vast gardens of Erebor, and Bofur kept the mansion in tip top shape. They were Alfred Pennyworth in three persons and Fili had never understood why Thror and Thrain didn’t like them.  
  
“Run along, laddie,” Bofur said when the last dish was cleaned and put away. “Go see your brother. He was missing you something fierce.”  
  
Fili’s smile dimmed. “I know,” he said. “Have a good night. Thanks for dinner.”  
  
He walked back to his room at a sedated pace, listening for all the little noises. He could hear Gimli chatting away with someone on the phone and Ori speaking with Balin and Oin in the parlour. In the stillness of night, everything he heard was dimmed and muffled. Somewhere in the mansion, there were whispers and crying.  
  
==  
  
When he got out of the shower, Kili was laying on his bed, thumbing through the internet on his phone. He looked up, dark lashes framing dark eyes, and Fili sighed.  
  
“What do you want?” he asked, glad that he made the right decision of changing into clean clothes in the bathroom. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with Kili.  
  
Instead of answering, Kili rolled over, taking the blankets with him. He peeked out of his cocoon and said; “Let’s have a sleepover.”  
  
Fili tossed the towel that was over his shoulders on top of the dresser and sat down on the evacuated side of the bed. “Give me back my blankets.”  
  
Kili snorted and wriggled. “I found these, these are mine now. You can’t have them.”  
  
Fili gave him a hard stare and sighed tiredly. He knew what Kili wanted, knew what his brother expected them to do—to fall back into routine, to be Fili and Kili again, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.  
  
In another time, Fili would have undoubtedly tackled Kili around the middle and attempted to regain his blankets. There would have been much laughter and rejoicing and probably a few serious punches here and there, but in the end, they would have shared his blankets and the roughhousing would have turned into something quieter, sweeter. But Fili wasn’t the same as he was then. He was older and—he’d like to think—wiser, the wounds he’d borne then now mended over, stronger.  
  
Fili got off the bed, grabbed his brother around the middle, and hoisted him over a shoulder. Kili squawked in surprise from the cocoon of all the blankets.  
  
“You’re twenty-three,” he snapped as he tossed Kili into the hall. Fili watched him roll a bit before coming to a stop. “Keep the damned blankets.”  
  
He closed the door to Kili’s protesting yells and sank down onto his blanket-less bed. There were several thumps from where Kili was banging on the door, and the sound of him trying to get back in, but Fili had effectively locked it. There was no way in.  
  
“Fine!” he heard Kili yell angrily. Everyone else on the estate probably heard too, with the volume he was going at. “I’m keeping the blankets. I hope you freeze, you ass!”  
  
There was a resounding bang as Kili slammed the door to his own room, presumably taking the blankets with him. Fili buried his head into the soft, plush pillows, willing himself to fall into a cushioned unconsciousness. It didn’t happen. Instead, he laid there with his eyes closed, thinking about Uncle Frerin of all people.  
  
He and his uncle had never been particularly close, not the way that he and Thorin were. Frerin had always faded into the background, the second son in a wealthy family, and Fili couldn’t remember much of anything about him. He couldn’t remember what his uncle liked or disliked, didn’t remember anything that he was particularly passionate about; Fili couldn’t remember if Frerin had ever left Erebor. He didn’t think his uncle had ever shown up on the mainland for any family gatherings.  
  
But very clearly, there was one thing that stood out for Fili. It was Easter holiday then, five and a half years ago with some of the family staying at the estate for that brief period of time. He and Kili were there, along with Thorin, Balin, and Dwalin, although Dis hadn’t gone, saying something about not wanting to deal with the overbearing nature of her father and grandfather. Things had been strained between him and Kili and when Kili did the unthinkable—invite Tauriel to stay for the holidays and she actually turned up—Fili got the biggest slap in the face by reality.  
  
Many people would say that of the two of them, Kili was the naïve one, but it was Fili who dreamed the impossible. He had never imagined a life without Kili, but then again, he had never imagined Kili pulling away from him either. He talked to an enlistment officer and on the eve of the day they were supposed to leave, Fili packed his bags and was ready to see a different way of living. Of all people, it was Uncle Frerin that caught him at the door.  
  
“I’ve got my degree and I’m still living at home,” Fili had said, unable to meet his uncle’s piercing eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.”  
  
Uncle Frerin sighed and put on his shoes. He picked up Fili’s backpack and led the two of them to the garage. “Is that why you’re really leaving?” he asked when they got into the nice Aston Martin. “If this is over some silly quarrel with your brother—”  
  
“No,” Fili protested, probably too quickly.  
  
Frerin sighed again and started up the car. “People change over time,” he said as he drove past the automatic gates. “Sometimes for the better. Sometimes for the worse. None of us are what we were as children.”  
  
 _Not me_ , Fili had thought fiercely then. _I’ve never changed, I’ve always been there for him, I’ve always loved him—_  
  
“Leaving without saying good-bye is going to hurt him,” Frerin said. He had given Fili a critical look, which Fili had stoutly ignored. “Not just him, but your mother too. And Thorin. He may be a grouch, but he loves you too. Your grandfather will be furious that you’ve left without telling him.”  
  
“Okay,” Fili snapped. “I get it.”  
  
“And me,” Frerin continued as they moved through the almost nonexistent morning traffic. “You don’t remember, but I was the one who took care of you when you were young. I was the one running after you whenever you escaped your crib and I would be the first thing you cried for in the mornings. I sang you to sleep at nights. I don’t know what’s the reasoning behind this decision of yours, but I hope that it’s the right one. I would hate to see you brought back in a coffin.”  
  
There was a pause and Fili watched as a middle-aged man crossed the street at a brisk pace, a brown paper bag in his arms. “I’m not leaving to die,” Fili said, reeling from the revelation.  
  
“I should hope not.”  
  
Frerin parked the car at the pier and waited with Fili for the ferry to come. “Keep in touch,” he said solemnly when they saw the boat approaching. “Otherwise, I’ll give your contact information to Thorin and Dis. You know how they can be.”  
  
“I’ll try,” Fili promised. “And thank you. For not making me stay.”  
  
Frerin’s smile was sad.  
  
That was the last conversation Fili ever had with Uncle Frerin, before the ferry arrived and brought him away. He had looked back at the pier, at the colorful island city of Dale, and saw the tiny form of his uncle standing by the sea. It was all Fili could remember of him, that confession in the silver Aston Martin and the promise—one that he would break quickly within the month—on the pier.  
  
When Fili opened his eyes, his cheeks were dry and no tears came for the dead man. He remembered just a vague tune and a somber voice in the dark.  
  
There was a light rapping at his door and Fili frowned. He glared at it, hoping that whoever it was would go away, and that it wasn’t Kili trying to get back in again. The rapping came again and Fili groaned. “Go away,” he snapped, loud enough so the person on the other side could hear.  
  
“Fili, open the door.”  
  
That wasn’t Kili at all, but the deep, distinctive voice of Uncle Thorin. Fili jumped off the bed and opened the door warily and found Thorin, dressed in his blue smoking jacket, standing in the hall with Fili’s blankets in hand. Though his back was ramrod straight and his head held as high as ever, there was a tiredness about him and a tension in his shoulders.  
  
“Sorry, I thought you were Kili,” Fili apologized.  
  
Thorin gave him an irritated look and walked into the room, depositing the blankets onto the bed. “Fighting again?” he asked and there was something there, an edge to his words.  
  
“It wasn’t intentional,” Fili said. “Thanks for bringing back my blankets.”  
  
Thorin rolled his eyes. “They were left outside your door,” he said, and then after a moment’s pause added: “idiot.”  
  
“I don’t—”  
  
“No one was happy about you leaving,” Thorin interjected, effectively silencing Fili. “You went and came back, but that doesn’t mean everything is fine. You didn’t reach out to any of us, treated us like strangers. Do you have any idea how worried Dis was when you’d go for months without replying to her letters and e-mails?”  
  
Fili held back his words and angry retorts; he came back alive, goddamn it, and it wasn’t like he left permanently. How many more people would he need to reassure? How many more times did he need to say that he was here?  
  
The look in Thorin’s eyes softened a fraction when he looked to Fili. “You’re back,” he said, clasping Fili on the shoulder, a small, tired smile on his lips. “You came back and that’s what matters.”  
  
"Yes, Uncle," Fili said, certain that Thorin could hear the bitterness in his voice. "I'm back."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful responses! And a special thank you to the amazing Weebatt for the wonderful fanart, which I've included at the end. :) She is sweet and amazing and really inspired me to crank this chapter out as soon as I could.
> 
> Also, a great thank you to Scarlett Kingston for the beta work. She's so patient with me while poking holes into my work. Without her diligence and hard work, I wouldn't be able to write as well. THANK YOU SO MUCH! ♥

  
The hours leading up to the funerals were chaotic at best. Dis was determined to drink herself into oblivion and her beau—a man scarcely several years older than Fili that arrived late to the island—was easily indulging her with drinks in the drawing room.

“It was a terrible accident,” he—Simun, Fili reminded himself, the man’s name was Simun—said, a tumbler filled with gin in his hand. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Fili had nodded, thanked the man, and promptly escaped the room.

Thorin had secluded himself in the study and someone had posted a note on the door in nice, curling letters that said: DO NOT DISTURB. When Fili walked by, he could make out the muffled tones of conversation, but nothing of what was being said. Everyone else had made themselves scarce, either in their rooms or overseeing something that needed to be done. Balin and Dwalin were out with Gandalf at the family burial grounds. Bombur was busy in the kitchen with Bifur and Bofur; Fili hadn’t thought they needed to cater for something so depressing, but he discovered that though this was a private event, the list of people showing up was extensive.

“I don’t even recognize half them,” Kili said as he and Fili peeked out over the banister and into the front hall.

They had woken up in the morning feeling like strangers, and now they were both steadfastly ignoring their argument from the night before. It only added to the growing number of things that they weren’t talking about.

“We do have a giant list of cousins,” Fili replied. “I don’t think I’ve ever met them all.”

Kili laughed, dragging Fili with him as they moved away before they were spotted and roped into greeting people. “Our ancestors were busy,” he said. “If you know what I mean.”

“Brat,” Fili said, frowning at the imagery that popped in his head.

They retreated to Kili’s bedroom and it was the first time Fili saw the redesigned interior. It was almost identical to his own, with eggshell white walls and a large oak desk pressed against the far wall. The only difference was the bed; instead of a four poster bed, it was a simple wooden frame painted a deep brown on which a large, plush looking mattress lay. His sheets were rumpled and unmade and there was a suitcase in the middle of the room, opened, with clothes strewn about everywhere. His room was messy and there was a fond tugging at Fili’s heartstrings at the sight.

“This is terrifying,” Fili commented. “It’s like a typhoon hit. How long have you been here?”

“Hey!” Kili exclaimed. “I was in a hurry this morning, jeez!”

Fili snorted, knowing that was hardly the truth. Kili was a natural morning grouch and didn’t take kindly to early hours and thus oftentimes, he was slower than a snail going uphill on a cold day.

“Don’t you have a set of clothes here? Why the luggage?”

Kili looked distinctly guilty at that. “Every time I came back, Grandpa or Great-Grandfather would ask me about you. I stopped coming back last year,” he said. He quickly switched the subject before Fili could reply. “I was looking through the toy box and look what I found.” He picked up a small, wooden knight situated on top of a horse from the dresser next to his bed. There were areas on the toy that the paint had entirely rubbed away from the many times it had been taken out to play. On the stiff tail of the horse there was a nasty chip in the wood from an unsalvageable accident years ago.

Fili had one just like that in his own toy box somewhere. He hadn’t opened that chest in a long while; first, because he was no longer a child and second, because he didn’t need another reminder of all the memories he had made and left behind. The toy knights on horses had always been a favorite of Fili’s; he wasn’t sure why, but he had played pretend with them for ages and even when he went to lessons with his tutors, he had put his little shining knight on his desk to watch him work. Kili wasn’t as attached, Fili knew, but he liked them simply because Fili liked them and they had played knights and dragons often and late into the nights during their childhood.

Fili took the toy, nostalgia washing over him. Any sharp point on the knight was smoothed out by the maker and by time, and every scratch on it contained a memory of happiness. It wasn’t until he turned the toy over that he noticed something different.

“Did you put this here?”

“What?” Kili leaned over Fili to see, his body so close to Fili’s own that he could feel the warmth emanating from his brother like a furnace. It was intimate and impulsive and exhilarating all at once. He held his position, making sure they didn’t touch unnecessarily and Fili showed him the mark on the bottom of the knight’s heel. It was faded and worn, barely visible; carved into the wood was a mark shaped like an ‘F.’

“Nope,” Kili said. “I’d put a K, not an F.”

“I’m not calling on your ability to spell,” Fili said with a chuckle. “Although it’s reassuring that you know the difference between a K and a F.”

Kili laughed, wrapped his arms around Fili’s middle, and with a fantastic heave, lifted Fili into the air. Fili shouted in surprise when Kili walked into the hall still holding him.

“Let me down!” Fili half laughed, half yelled, and squirmed against Kili’s hold. “Idiot!”

Kili did, when he moved them outside of Fili’s door. “You’re heavier than you look,” he said with a cheeky grin.

“I’m all muscle,” Fili replied, rolling his eyes.

Kili looked like he wanted to reply, but his mouth opened and no sounds came out. His gaze, previously playful and sparkling with joy, turned to something deeper and heated. “I—” he managed to choke out and then shut his mouth. He blinked and looked to the door of Fili’s room instead. There was something thick and tense in the air, an unspoken grief that had nothing to do with the funerals today.

“I know you loved that old knight,” Kili said, clearing his throat. “Where’d you put it?” He didn’t wait for a response before barreling inside and making a beeline for the toy box.

Fili released the breath that he was holding.

They found the toy at the bottom, along with the little red dragon that they’d always have the knights ‘slay.’ The dragon was less vicious than Fili remembered it to be, the once vibrant red now dulled and many of its once sharp teeth broken off and missing. Fili found himself smiling when Kili dug them up from the chest, bringing them proudly out into the daylight.

“I am Sir Knight Fili,” Kili said in a mockery of Fili’s own voice. He held up Fili’s knight, just as worn from age as the one Fili had in his palm, and in his other hand, he held up the dragon. “I am here to kill you!”

Fili marched Kili’s knight up to them. “I am Sir Kili the Dumbass,” Fili said as Kili squawked in indignation.

It was a silly perversion of their childhood, but they kept at it—trying to slay a wooden dragon with foul language and imaginary weapons until someone cleared their throat, interrupting their laughter and escape from reality.

They looked up to see Dwalin staring down at them, an exasperated look on his face. “Boys,” he said with a sigh and a shake of his head. “Hurry up and get dressed. I’ll see you both downstairs.”

==

Dis was openly sobbing for most of the funeral and Thorin was grim-faced as ever, even when delivering the eulogies. What gave him away was the slight tremble of his hands, which he deftly hid away from seeing eyes. The whole procession was long and strange for Fili; he was unable to muster tears or even grief for any of these deceased men. He knew them better than most of those that had come, but despite all that, when he removed himself from Erebor, he removed himself from his family. He was used to not seeing any of them, having no contact, that the funeral felt surreal.

There was no fanfare when the caskets were lowered into the ground, none of the ostentatious demonstrations that Thror had relished in when he was alive. Instead, the weather was bright and sunny despite the chill, and everyone gathered at the graves was mostly silent. There were many murmured condolences which Thorin accepted with terse nods and even terser words. Dis alternated between screaming incoherently at Thorin and burying her head in Simun’s arms.

The headstones were slick and new, the words engraved into them feeling like a lie. Fili read their names over and over again and still nothing came to him. He’d lost more comrade-in-arms than he would have liked when he was still military, but that was different from this. He cried—his friends had cried—yet here he was, devoid of emotion.

Fili chanced a glance at Kili, who for all intents and purposes looked to be in a dark mood. Yet Fili couldn’t feel the tension from him that normally accompanied it and he wondered if he was the only one who felt hollow and empty on the inside.

When the last bit of dirt was put to earth, people started to leave. Fili stood where he was, not sure if he should go or stay, but his feet refused to carry him anywhere.

“Did you know that the person who caught me leaving was Frerin?” Fili asked Kili when there were only stragglers left behind. Dis was weeping at Frerin’s headstone, Thorin standing as still as a statue behind her. “He could have made me stay.”

“No one told me anything,” Kili said after a beat.

“That was the last time I ever saw him or spoke to him.” He turned to face Kili. “I know he was a good person. He was a bit strange and a recluse, but his heart was always in the right place. It’s weird that he’s gone. They’re all gone.”

“You only found out a few days ago,” Kili said. “I’ve known for over a week. You need time to digest the idea.”

Fili gave it some thought. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Probably.”

They continued to stand in the afternoon light until only the four of them remained. The burying should have been hard, but the only thing that hurt was watching his mother cry and unable to do anything about it.

Dis eventually stopped. Her hair, previously held in place in a tight bun, was loose and flowed around her shoulders. Her face shone bright and wet and she wobbled as she stood, though Thorin was there immediately to help steady her. She laughed, a mixture of alcohol and despair, and said in an exhausted, wrecked voice: “You’re my only brother now.”

Fili couldn’t even imagine how his mother was feeling. He had lost Kili once and that had been the most painful thing for him to live through, but if Kili was to die—to go away forever—he wouldn’t know what to do. He’d be lost, just as he was and had been when Kili tore his heart in two, except there would be no healing from that.

“Mum,” he said, stepping forward and feeling useless. “There’s still us. You’ve got us.”

Dis made a broken noise and wrapped her arms around him. “Fili. Fili,” she said as if every syllable was a great effort to speak. “If there is one thing that I’m grateful for, it’s your homecoming. You’re back.” She squeezed him tightly and he returned it. She gave a great heave of breath and let him go, turning to Kili. Instead of embracing him, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Oh, my boys are together again.” For a moment, she smiled.

And just like that, the rest of her words were choked off by wracking sobs. She pulled away from them to face Frerin’s grave.

“Go back to the house,” Thorin said quietly. The lines of his mouth were drawn tight and the pallor of his skin was unusually light. “I’ll take care of your mother.”

Fili nodded reluctantly; maybe they need some time alone. They were Thorin and Dis’ immediate family and the ones that knew them best. He wasn’t helping by being out here, he told himself, and if Thorin wanted to speak with Dis alone, then who was he to stop him?

“Call if you need us,” he replied.

He motioned to Kili with a nod and the two of them left the graveyard together. When they were a distance away, Kili glanced back, and then heaved a great sigh.

“That was depressing,” he said, raking a hand through his hair.

“No shit,” Fili replied.

==

Dinner was a somber thing to witness. While the Durin Estate was large enough to accommodate crowds, the atmosphere within was suffocating. Fili escaped back to his room the moment saw that no one was paying him any attention, bringing his plate of food with him. He shut the door and sat on the bed, balancing his plate on his knee. Scattered around the mattress were the toys that he hadn’t put back into his toy box.

The two knights were in the middle of squaring off against the dragon, sitting lopsidedly on top of the blankets. Fili ate his food, watching the silent battle.

He had scarcely been alone for five minutes when his door opened and without any preamble, Kili came in, shutting the door behind him with his foot. He had two empty wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other.

“Cheers,” he said, handing one of the glasses to Fili.

“My door was shut,” Fili said, nonetheless accepting the glass.

Kili shrugged and joined him on the bed. “I saw you leaving. If you weren’t going to stay, I wasn’t going to stay.” He popped opened the bottle of scotch and poured them both some.

“Where’d you get this? I hope you didn’t steal this from Mum’s stash,” Fili said. “Or Thorin’s. They really like their alcohol.”

Kili rolled his eyes. “You think I don’t know that? I asked Bombur to get a bottle the next time he went to the store.”

Fili sipped the drink and scrunched his face. He had never liked alcohol when he was younger, even when his schoolmates were smuggling drinks into tinted water bottles to drink in class. It didn’t matter if he had an empty stomach or not, anything alcoholic went straight to his head. It didn’t make drinking with any of his military buddies as hard as he had imagined it to be; they were forgiving and never forced him to go beyond his limit.

“Didn’t bring a chaser?”

Kili shrugged. “Did you need one?”

Fili shook his head and set his glass down on the flat surface of the dresser. He returned to eating and Kili remained at his side, drinking silently.

He had entirely missed this juncture of Kili’s life, the transition of a boy becoming a man. The Kili he remembered had always been awkward in suits and was forever running around on tireless energy, but this one, the one sitting on the bed next to him, was tempered in a way that Fili couldn’t reconcile with. This Kili filled out his suit nicely, had stubble growing on his jaw, and actual muscle definition. His brother had grown attractive while he was away.

Not that Kili had ever been unattractive, even when covered in mud and soaking wet.

He couldn’t remember when it had happened, but he could pinpoint the day they first kissed. Fili, Kili, and Dis had moved out of the Estate and were living in the Bristol flat at the time. The day had been indistinguishable from any other day except for the fact that Kili had been upset about something and refused to talk to anyone. Fili—on the cusp of seventeen—had sat down at Kili’s desk while Kili moped on his bed, and demanded to know what was going through his brother’s thick skull.

“None of your business,” Kili had muttered into his pillow. “And you suck.”

That provoked a small fistfight that Dis eventually broke up and told them to sort it out before dinner, else they get no food.

“Sorry,” Fili said, petting Kili on the head. “I didn’t mean it.”

Kili looked up at him, his dark eyes opened wide. “Yeah,” he said. “You don’t suck.”

Fili grinned and as he was about to press a kiss to the crown of Kili’s head, Kili moved. Instead of the top of Kili’s head, he found Kili pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It was soft and warm and quick and very, very terrifying. He hadn’t known what to say, just stared at Kili, frozen in place. He didn’t even have a chance to brush it off as an accident because Kili was pressing another chaste kiss against his mouth.

Fili had, in one word: freaked.

This was his brother—his little brother—the one that looked at him like he hung the moon, the little brother that cried when Fili went for his first day of secondary school because he thought that Fili was leaving forever. It was Kili, the one who loved Fili unconditionally, that when they fought, would always try to make things better somehow, even when it was Fili’s fault.

But it wasn’t because they were brothers. Fili was horrified to find that he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind one bit.

Kili had smiled, tiny and uncertain, and Fili knew he couldn’t say no; that was the tipping of the scales, the moment he was forfeit.

Kili must not have felt the same because several years later Fili was watching him fall in love with a slender, attractive, dark-haired girl.

“Why are you so quiet?”

Fili looked to Kili, who was surveying him with an arched eyebrow. He had undone his tie, letting it drape around his neck, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. In his hand was his glass, nearly empty of scotch.

“We buried people today. I’m allowed to feel something for that.”

Kili made a noise, neither disagreeable nor agreeable. He poured himself some more scotch and Fili watched as he drank. Kili was a better drinker than he was. He probably inherited that from Dis.

“What went on while I was away?” Fili asked, setting his emptied plate aside. He picked up his glass and took a large swallow, feeling the alcohol burn its way down the back of his throat and into his belly. “What did you get up to?”

Kili shrugged. “Didn’t Thorin or Mum tell you?” he asked snappishly, not meeting Fili’s gaze. “I don’t know why you’re asking me now.”

“They told me nothing about you,” Fili replied. “Not specifics anyway, beyond that you were doing fine and getting on without me.”

“Oh.”

Kili stared into his glass like it had an answer for Fili, but even when he drained it and poured himself more, he said nothing. Fili was still nursing his first glass and he could already feel that last gulp of alcohol slowly working through his body. He was warmer than before and he felt relaxed.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kili said finally. “Here, drink more.”

He refilled Fili’s half-emptied glass.

“What did you do in the military?” Kili asked. “Five years means you’ve got some story or other to tell.”

Fili took another sip. “I’m under contractual obligation to not talk about it,” he said, which was a half-truth and half-lie. There were things he wasn’t allowed to talk about to civilians, but it wasn’t like his stint in the military had been filled with secrets. Mostly it had been training and waiting and when combat happened, it was brutal and quick and not worth remembering or talking about.

Kili nodded slowly. It was less in agreement and more of an action of just moving his head. He leaned against one of the posts and propped his feet up onto the bed, his toes brushing against Fili’s thighs.

They drank until the bottle was gone, Kili having consumed most of it. Fili was still nursing his third or fourth refill when Kili moved from his spot, nearly spilling scotch onto his bed. He plucked the glass from Fili’s hands delicately and set it aside.

“Kili,” Fili started to say when he was shushed.

“I’m sorry,” Kili murmured, cupping Fili’s face with his hands. They felt cool against Fili’s face, which were red and flushed from the alcohol. He could practically feel the color beating in his cheeks and at the touch of Kili’s fingertips, the sensation dulled until all there was were Kili’s hands.

When Kili kissed him, it was heated and desperate and painful to bear. Fili couldn’t turn away, whether from the alcohol or his own volition.

“You’re drunk,” Fili protested against Kili’s lips, his voice sounding far away to his own ears.

Kili chuckled and pressed more kisses into his skin; the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his jaw, his throat. “Not drunk,” Kili murmured, his words vibrating against Fili’s neck. “Just liquid courage. I notice you’re still incapable of drinking.”

Fili attempted to swat him across the head, but Kili caught him by the wrist and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin, sending a rush of heat straight to Fili’s groin. He couldn’t think, his head was swimming in circles, and Kili undoing the buttons to his shirt was a godsend. His own fingers were working sloppily at removing Kili’s clothes, using the utmost care and restraint to not just tear them from Kili’s body.

He knew precisely the moment when Kili discovered the scar.

Kili had pulled back, a frown on his face. He yanked the shirt open wider and pushed away Fili’s fumbling hands. Fili could hear Kili swallow as he looked at the thing which marred his chest. The scar was small, the skin around the wound puckered and wrinkled from healing, though what remained was splotchy in color and deeply pockmarked compared with the rest of his skin.

“This wasn’t serious,” Kili said, voice tight as he echoed the conversation of yesterday. “What do you mean it wasn’t serious?” He ghosted over the long-healed wound with his fingers and then pressed down on it with his palm, hiding it from sight. “It could have been very serious. Your kidney or even your lung. Why did you not say anything? Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Fili sighed. “I didn’t die,” he said crossly.

Kili made a strangled noise. “Were you looking to die?”

Fili looked at him carefully, considering.

“Maybe,” he said and he probably deserved the punch that came next.

==

The next day started early. Fili was accustomed to waking at seven and making his way to the mess hall for food, but by the time he made it to the dining room, almost everyone had already eaten and left. The only stragglers at the table had been Gimli, Kili, and Ori. No one commented on the state of either Kili or Fili’s faces, just furtive glances between Gimli and Ori, and muttered ‘good mornings.’ The moment Fili took a seat, Gandalf appeared with Bilbo blinking blearily behind him.

“Are you still glued to that thing,” Gandalf sighed impatiently, glaring impressively at Gimli who was still texting, and then swept out of the room, Bilbo at his heels.

“Who’s he talking to anyway?” Fili whispered.

Kili grunted and shrugged, avoiding making eye contact, but Ori was a little more forthcoming with an answer: “It’s some bloke from school. He used to be all Gimli complained about and now they’re like the best of friends.”

Fili raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment. He ate his omelette and drank his coffee in relative silence when Bilbo came striding back into the room, a little notepad between his hands. He was chewing on the end of a pen as he grabbed a coffee and dumped a copious amount of milk and sugar into it until it was a creamy color that no longer resembled the dark brew. It wasn’t until he had his first sip that he looked up from scribbling, seeming to realize where he was and who he was with.

“Erm, hello, good morning,” he said. Ori nodded shyly, always one to prefer books over people; Kili grunted something into the hot cereal he was mulling over; Gimli gave a wave, though he quickly returned to his phone when it buzzed.

Fili smiled back. “Morning. What’s that?” He nodded at the notepad.

“Notes,” Bilbo said with a little sigh as he sipped at his coffee. He tucked it away into his pocket, out of sight. “How’s your first day being home? Aside from all the, erm—” Bilbo stopped himself abruptly. “Sorry, what happened to your face?”

“Nothing,” Fili lied smoothly.

Bilbo wasn’t convinced. “Was there a fight?” He looked so honestly concerned that Fili felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment and from his seat across the table, Kili coughed indiscreetly. “Are—are the two of you alright?”

“It was nothing,” Fili said, looking down at his half devoured omelette. “Sibling rivalry. Just a little disagreement between me and Kili.”

“A little?” Kili muttered. “Are you seriously saying that after everything?”

Fili looked up to see Kili glaring at him, eyes dark and bloodshot. Fili glared back, but didn’t rise to the bait. Kili pressed on, because he was always like that—toeing the line until he crossed it. Kili lived entirely in the moment, thinking he could take on the world. Fili admired and hated him for it.

“You’re a selfish bastard,” Kili said vehemently. He slammed the spoon in his hands down onto the wooden tabletop. “You do not get to pull this shit. Not now.”

Nobody in the dining room moved. Gimli was staring wide eyed at Kili, phone tucked away in his pocket. Ori was scooted so far back in his chair that it seemed like he was trying to disappear into it and Bilbo was staring owlishly at Kili from over his coffee, clearly not expecting the explosive reaction.

“I don’t want to talk about it here,” Fili snapped.

“No!” Kili stood, the chair screeching against the floor. “You ran away last time and you disappeared for five fucking years! No, fuck you, I—”

Fili stood too, storming from the dining room, Kili on his heels. “Shut up,” he said. “Just. Shut up.”

He led them out to the gardens in the back where no one was likely to overhear them. It was chilly, the smell of the ocean wafting up with the morning breeze, and the flora around them beginning to turn from green to gold. Fili rarely came out here, except for a few occasions, but he knew his way around the expansive back gardens well enough.

In all the time he had gone, the place hadn’t changed. The waist-high hedge maze was still properly trimmed and well maintained, still green despite the late season. Beyond it was a small stream that ran parallel to the house and occasionally, there would be birds or some other small critter from the mountain could be found bathing in it. Fili turned away from all of that and brought them to a secluded grove of trees some distance away from the mansion.

He paused a moment before rotating around to face his brother. The expression that Kili wore burned so fiercely that Fili could feel Kili’s frustration standing where he was. It was only the downcast look in Kili’s eyes that told Fili he was even an ounce remorseful.  

“What the hell was that?” Fili snapped.

“You know what,” Kili retorted.

Fili swallowed the angry words at the tip of his tongue and paced around the grove, breathing in the salty air to clear his head. He mentally counted to ten and looked up into Kili’s eyes.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” he said thickly and Kili’s expression lessened a fraction. He had always worn his emotions openly and Fili had been glad that Kili was such an easy read, but now, he wished that Kili wasn’t so transparent. “But seriously? In the dining room? With other people there?” he hissed.

“That was bad judgment on my part,” Kili admitted. “But I was…so mad.” He licked his lips and stepped closer to Fili. “Maybe you were using your time away to—to get over me, but I was taking time to adjust to living without you. I didn’t like it. I don’t want you to go away again. I don’t want you to die.”

Fili shook his head, suddenly exhausted. “I don’t want to die either,” he said.  


Kili sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He looked as tired as Fili felt and his back was ramrod straight with tension.

“So, what now?”

There were a hundred different answers that Fili could have uttered, but when he opened his mouth, his voice disappeared and unbidden, the words formed in a soundless whisper: “If we do this, we start from the beginning.”

Kili’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“We start fresh,” he said, heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing through his ears. “A clean slate.”

Kili started forward, stopped; his mouth was pulled into a small, wane smile. “Okay,” he said, breathless. “Yeah. I can do that.” He held out his hand, palm facing upwards, waiting.

It was a simple gesture, yet all Fili saw before him the possibility of heartbreak and grief, but it was the warmth in his chest and the stubbornness in his veins that moved him to grasp Kili’s hand with his own. He felt light headed and confused, elated and distressed and torn in two; Kili was the sole reason he came back—the whole reason he shouldn’t have come back. Kili was going to break his heart anew and Fili couldn’t stop himself now if he tried.

Fili smiled back. “Can we go back to breakfast without causing a scene?”

Kili nodded; “Yeah,” he said under his breath as he bridged the space between them. “Yeah. Anything. Just let me—please—Fili—”

Kili let go of his hand to cup his face, the tips of his fingers trembling. They were warm against the skin of his cheeks, which had turned cold in the morning weather, and touched him with a reverence that dissipated all of his dark thoughts. Fili found his head being tilted upwards gently and lips pressing down to meet his own. It was inviting and breathtaking and so perfect that Fili closed his eyes and leaned in to it, relishing in the presence that was Kili, his brother, his other half.

He indulged this, letting Kili kiss him sweet and slow, until he felt Kili’s hand moving to the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

He tapped at Kili’s chin, finger running over the stubble there, and Kili made a noise in the back of his throat as he backed off. He pressed their foreheads together, eyes still squeezed tight.

Neither of them moved for the longest time, just standing and basking in each other’s presence. Even though Kili could make him so angry at times, Fili had missed him. Even though he had been on the Estate for two days, it was only now that he felt like he had come home.  

“I missed you so much, you ass,” Kili whispered. “I would have gone with you.”

Fili wanted to shake his head because back then, when their relationship had been so strained and he and Kili were fighting about everything, Kili had chosen someone else over him. But he said nothing on that and instead, touched the side of Kili’s neck. “You got taller while I was away.”

Kili’s reply wasn’t immediate. “I did. I had to grow up without you.”

Fili patted Kili on his neck lightly. He didn’t want to dwell on the subject. “Alright. Come on, breakfast. Everyone’s probably wondering who’s dead by now.”

Kili laughed and finally opened his eyes, dark, glassy, and bloodshot. He still looked tired, though immeasurably happier and more cheerful than earlier. “Everyone knows that I’ve always outwrestled you,” he said, letting go of Fili.

They walked back together, the tenseness of before gone. If Kili was walking too close, Fili said nothing on it and instead, let himself be drawn into the nonsense bickering that Kili started. When they got back to the dining room, Gimli and Ori were gone, and in their place was Thorin. He gave them both a critical look, muttered something under his breath, and rose from his seat.

“They’re fine,” he said to Bilbo, who was looking abashed. “Call me when there’s an actual emergency.”

Thorin swept from the room, the double doors shutting in perfect sync behind him.

“You told Thorin?” Kili asked the moment he was sure Thorin was out of earshot.

“I did not!” Bilbo objected, “I had only wondered if you two were going to be alright and your cousins were sure the two of you would kill each other and Thorin just happened to pass by and overheard and decided to go after you two if you weren’t back in another five minutes—”

Fili laughed and clapped Bilbo on the shoulder. “Breathe,” he said.

“Look,” Bilbo raised both his hands into the air as he spoke, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up any bad blood between you two.”

“Nothing to worry about,” Fili assured him as he took a seat at the table, Kili grabbing his now cold and soggy bowl of cereal to move to the seat next to Fili’s. “We worked out our differences.”

Kili noticed that Fili was looking at him and smiled. “We’re good now,” he said. “We’re the best we’ve ever been.”

It took a great effort to tear his gaze away from his brother, but Fili did, and picked up his discarded fork. His omelette was cold and unappetizing, though he finished it in several bites. “We’ll be fine,” he told Bilbo after a while. “Thank you for your concern.”

Bilbo was giving them strange looks, a slight frown etched on his face. His lips were pursed and he had a finger tapping at his temple as he thought whatever thoughts he had in his brain. After a long consideration, he nodded and said, “I’m glad you’re on civil terms again.” He gave them both a small smile, picked up his coffee cup, and left the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> Weebatt @ tumblr: [here](http://weebatt.tumblr.com/post/42162213748/fili-couldnt-smile-or-offer-any-kind-of).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A great big thank you to everyone that's supported me in writing this. :) And for today, two special thank yous!
> 
> The first is to Scarlett_Kingston for the amazing beta work! Any other mistakes are entirely my fault because I'm a terrible writer. The other is for tumblr user pinkmilkbutt (what a great user name ;D) for fanart! It was the boost I needed to finish getting through the chapter and I've included the amazing art at the end.

The one criticism Fili had about living on the Estate was that it was isolated. It was nestled at the halfway point on Mount Erebor with large gates and even larger, intimidating stone sentries to guard the only way up. The people of Dale had always regarded its eccentric rich celebrities with a mixture of detached curiosity and pseudo aloofness. Those that went to and fro from the Estate hardly mingled with anyone that lived outside of it and that was how it’d always been for years and years.  
  
Fili knew the way home from the pier, but aside from that, he didn’t remember any of the roads or where any of the streets led. He didn’t know where the public beach was since Mount Erebor had a private cove, hidden away from the locals. Shopping had always been done by Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur, and prior to them it had been done by the hired help. He didn’t know where the local shopping mall was, but he knew one had to exist on the island.  
  
He stared at the opened map that was left on the dining room table, rotating it to see the name of streets clearer. There were buildings marked out with names attached to the blocks on paper, but no images of the places came to mind. Dale didn’t have an airport, just a pier, but it still had as many roads as a proper city did, intertwined in neat, square segments.  
  
“Oh!”  
  
Fili looked up at the noise, not surprised at all to find that it was Bilbo standing there. He was looking shamefaced and he cleared his throat politely before reaching out to grab the map.  
  
“Terribly sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to leave this out.”  
  
“No!” Fili exclaimed with more force than necessary. He grabbed Bilbo’s arm before the man could take back the map. “No,” he tried again, letting go of the smaller man. “It’s alright. I was looking it over.”  
  
Bilbo gave him a wary look. “It’s just a map,” he said. “Weren’t you the one that was making fun of me for not having a GPS?”  
  
Fili grinned, remembering that just three days ago, they were strangers on a pier. They hadn’t spoken much since then, but he liked Bilbo for some inexplicable reason. Perhaps it was because Bilbo was simpler than his relatives. There were names to remember and who was related to who and who was doing what with their lives; it was a headache and a bother to have so many family members, extended or no, and Fili didn’t even know half of the people that showed up to the funeral.  
  
“You old man,” he teased, turning his attentions back to Bilbo, chuckling when he heard the squawk of indignation.  
  
“I’ll have you know that I’m younger than your uncle,” Bilbo said.  
  
“That just makes you less ancient. Not by much,” Fili replied and Bilbo snorted. His expression was one of tolerant exasperation.  
  
Fili looked down at the map, back up at Bilbo, and had to suppress a snicker. He was dressed in a pair of comfortable looking brown trousers and a fuzzy grey sweater with a truly hideous design emblazoned on it. There was a small backpack slung over his shoulders, a fat wristwatch, and he looked ready to spend the day outdoors. All in all, he resembled a stereotypical tourist; the only thing he was missing was a camera hanging from his neck.  
  
“Are you going somewhere?” Fili asked.  
  
Bilbo nodded and gestured to the map that was still in Fili’s hands. “Yes. I promised someone that I’d get them a souvenir. I am a keeper of promises, I’ll have you know,” Bilbo said as if Fili doubted him. “If I don’t go today, I don’t think I’ll have any time tomorrow.”  
  
Fili didn’t let go of the map. Instead, he folded it up and placed it into his pocket. Bilbo frowned in confusion and Fili shrugged. He marched out of the dining room with Bilbo following him and he made a beeline for the stairs to Kili’s room.  
  
“Why won’t you have any time tomorrow?” he asked, keeping the conversation going as they ascended the stairs.  
  
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Bilbo replied, still frowning. “We don’t all live here.” He gave Fili a pointed look. “Can I have my map back? I’d like to go before the sun sets.”  
  
“I’m coming with you!” Fili declared.  
  
The door to Kili’s room was wide opened and he peeked out at the noise. Kili hadn’t shaved since the funeral and he was looking very fuzzy around the jaws. That was another thing that Fili was getting used to; before he left, Kili was still struggling to grow facial hair. Nevertheless, his brother still looked handsome with or without it. Those genes came from Dis’ side of the family, he supposed, since Thorin could go for a whole month without shaving and still be called ruggedly attractive.  
  
“Where are we going?” Kili asked, eyes bright with excitement. “Can I drive?”  
  
“You don’t even have a license,” Fili snorted. He went into his room and grabbed a jacket; it was warm inside the Estate, but it wasn’t always so outside. He shrugged his jacket on quickly and steered Bilbo back down the stairs.  
  
“I didn’t ask any of you to come along,” Bilbo pointed out rather peevishly. That just got Fili to smile wider.  
  
“How were you going to get to the city? We had to take a cab up here.”  
  
Fili ushered Bilbo out the front door with Kili clattering loudly after them, having invited himself along for the trip. He led Bilbo around the fountain and towards the small hill that seated the garage.  
  
Some of the cars that were parked around the fountain were no longer there and Fili guessed that whoever drove them must have left. It’d been a whole day since the funeral. He chanced a glance over at Kili, who was struggling to put an arm through his sweater—but was hilariously stuck—and wondered what he was going to be doing once he left. Kili didn’t live here at the Estate, but aside from that, Fili knew nothing about Kili’s present life. He was curious and wanted to know.  
  
Instead, he asked another question.  
  
“Which car should we take? The nice one or the one Uncle likes best?”  
  
“He’ll kill you if he finds out you’ve touched it,” Kili said, head still stuck within the confines of his sweater. His hand poked out from beneath it, dangling the garage keys.  
  
“Thorin drives?” Bilbo asked, like something just became clear to him. He had a funny little look on his face and Fili knew there was a story there about Thorin and cars.  
  
“Of course he does,” Fili replied, taking the keys from Kili’s hand and pulling his brother’s sweater into proper alignment. “You’re like a three year old. How can you struggle so much with a sweater?”  
  
“I’m wearing an evil sweater,” Kili said with a wide grin. “Let’s take Uncle’s car.”  
  
In the garage were space enough for five cars; three with dust covers on and two others that looked to be in constant use. Those must be Bofur and Bombur’s, Fili realized; these were the cars that they would use to go out to do the shopping with. One was a relatively normal looking Honda, tan in color, and all around forgettable. The other one was a red van that had sand stuck in the groove of its tires and crusted muddy streaks across its side. From the rear view mirror of the van, a small fang ornament hung innocuously.  
  
“That’s Bofur’s,” Kili said. Fili blinked and looked away; he had been staring.  
  
“So which one of these is Minty?” Fili rubbed his hands together as he pulled up the cover to the first car. That was the silver Aston Martin. He stared at it for several moments, noting how it hasn’t changed at all since the last time he saw it disappearing into the distance. Uncle Frerin’s startlingly sad face surfaced in his mind, from that day on the pier. He let the cover fall back on the car and he moved on to the next one, which revealed a bright, pale green convertible.  
  
Bilbo laughed. “Is that Thorin’s car?”  
  
The story behind Minty was when Thorin was young, he had been a rebel. He grew his hair out and had disregarded everything authoritative with an upturned nose. According to Dwalin, that phase lasted a good solid month and Minty was the result of Thorin’s ‘bad boy’ days. Fili failed to see how the convertible was even remotely rebellious; it just looked old and tacky.  
  
They piled in, with Fili in the driver’s seat and Kili navigating with Bilbo’s map. The weather wasn’t terrible, but neither was it kind. It was chilly and the sun was hidden away behind wispy grey clouds.  
  
The first stop they made was to the street vendors close to the pier. There were all sorts of baubles there, mostly of the useless tourist kind, and one of vendors had postcards of the mountain. Fili laughed to himself when he saw the picture; the Estate was huge and was hardly hidden from sight from where it nestled in Mount Erebor.  
  
“What about this?” Kili asked, pointing at a shirt with big bold letters declaring ‘I ♥ DALE.’  
  
Bilbo scoffed. “Lovely,” he said wryly. “Except my cousin is not in love with anyone named Dale.”  
  
Kili laughed uproariously at that.  
  
“What’s your cousin like?” Fili asked, curious.  
  
Bilbo thought for a moment before answering: “He’s a little quiet for his age, but he’s well-behaved and responsible. I’m not sure he’ll like any of these trinkets here.”  
  
The first thought to spring to mind was Ori—he had been quiet and unobtrusive since Fili had known him, and it wasn’t until he entered secondary school that he started to come out of his shell. But even now, he got the impression that Ori was a calm and bookish sort, completely unlike Kili despite the meager months that separated their age.  
  
“Is he interested in books?”  
  
Bilbo’s eyes lit up at that and he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! Yes, he is. He’s a bit of a bookworm and always off daydreaming about something or other,” he said. “I’d imagine he’ll like something that he’ll be able to read.”  
  
“That’s easy then! Let’s head over to High Street,” Kili suggested. “There’s that bookstore there, the one with the birds.”  
  
Fili had no idea what he was talking about, but nodded along as Kili prattled on. “That was the only place Ori ever wanted to go. We snuck off to the arcade once, but he got scared and you won’t believe the trouble I got in because of that! Dori’s worse than a mother! Whenever we went back, he’d be right there behind us. It was creepy, to be honest.”  
  
“I didn’t know that you and Ori went off by yourselves,” Fili said as they headed back to the car. He couldn’t remember where High Street was, but he was certain it had been one of the crossroads that he encountered on the way to the pier. “When was this?”  
  
“Over holidays, mostly, when he came by. You were always stuck with your tutors on those days.” Kili made a face at the memory. “If you were around, then maybe Dori wouldn’t want to roast me over a spit so much. I think he’s still holding a grudge.”  
  
They got into the car and Kili directed him over to High Street.  
  
It wasn’t a particularly impressive street, but it held more bustle than the pier did. Traffic was more difficult to get through and the road only held two lanes, each going in separate directions. There was a theater and a number of small restaurants and diners advertising their delicious fish and chips and popcorn shrimp with bright paper signs to attract customers looking for afternoon snacks. Squeezed in the middle of it all was the smallest Tesco Fili had ever seen. It must have opened up recently, the veneer of the store looking shiny, polished, and a whole decade ahead of everything around it.  
  
They parked and found the bookstore that Kili was talking about. There were garish tropical birds of paradise on its wallpapers and Fili wondered how Ori managed to spend any time here without going blind.  
  
“The trick is to not stare at the walls,” Kili whispered into his ear. It was too sudden, too close.  
  
Fili shook his head and stepped away, pretending to glance over the titles on display. His eyes glazed over the words and pictures, not absorbing anything, and he tried to calm his racing heart. He looked around the small shop for Bilbo and found him in a corner, studiously picking through the books, particularly ones about Dale and Mount Erebor. He wasn’t paying Fili and Kili any mind.  
  
“So what are you going to do?”  
  
Kili was standing next to him, nearly shoulder to shoulder. His eyes were looking at the titles before him with detached interest, but Fili knew that Kili wasn’t paying it any attention. The way that he stood, the way his posture was so tense despite the relaxed demeanor was a warning sign. Kili was worrying over something that he wanted to talk about, something that he wasn’t sure would go over well or not with Fili.  
  
“What do you mean?” Fili asked, feigning ignorance.  
  
“Bilbo’s leaving tomorrow. I’m leaving at the end of the week. Everyone else has already left.”  
  
“I’m staying here. I’ll be getting the whole Estate to myself now, I guess.”  
  
Kili leaned closer, invading his personal space. His voice was pitched low and in the din of the shop, Fili could barely hear it. Behind the counter, a black haired girl had her head buried in a magazine as she surreptitiously snuck glances over the pages, eyes fixated on them.  
  
“Move in with me.”  
  
Fili didn’t even need to think about it. “No,” he said clearly.  
  
Kili wasn’t deterred in the least. “I’m back at the old place in Bristol. You can have your old room again. Ori’s taken over Mum’s room since she doesn’t live there anymore. We were talking about getting another flatmate, but I didn’t want to clean out your things.”  
  
For the first time in a long while, Fili couldn’t understand where Kili was coming from, why Kili was asking him to move in together. They had agreed to move slowly through their tenuous relationship and already, he knew that if they moved back in together, things would spiral out beyond his control. He couldn’t have that, yet the small hopeful part of him wanted to leap at the chance to spend more time with Kili. To know that he was only staying at the Estate till the end of the week was too short—there were only three days left.  
  
Another thought pierced the veil of his mind.  
  
“Ori?” he asked.  
  
Kili smiled, almost triumphantly. “We’re flatmates,” he said. “I’ll let you think it over. Tell me before the week is up.”  
  
“I—”  
  
“Ahem!”  
  
Fili dragged his eyes away from Kili to Bilbo, who was standing across from them with a paper bag tucked under one arm. He had already made his purchase and he was giving the both of them the same strange look from breakfast the other day.  
  
Somehow, Fili had his body angled towards Kili’s and vice-versa. They had started out standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder, but when did they move? How did he not notice? They stood too close, their arms brushing against each other, chests nearly touching, and _they were in public_. No wonder the clerk had been spying on them.  
  
“Ready to go?” Fili asked with false cheer, carefully sidestepping Kili as he moved to steer Bilbo out of the shop in a hurry. He made a ‘harrumph!’ noise, but otherwise didn’t protest.  
  
The ride back to the Estate was notably tense, the good mood Fili had been in dissipated in the span of just an hour. The sun was starting to set and the weather was chillier than before. The night would be cold. Bilbo stared at them the whole ride home from the back seat, a finger drumming an erratic rhythm on his temple as he thought.  
  
==  
  
Dinner was interesting to say the least; Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur joined them at the table, bringing enthusiastic conversation to an otherwise strained affair. Thorin and Dis weren’t speaking to each other and Bilbo was skittish all around. Simun looked completely out of sorts sitting with the family and he ate mostly in silence, only drawn into the occasional conversation by Dis or Bofur.  
  
Bofur was likable and easy going, his smile disarmingly cheery, and he was so genuine in his words, it was impossible to keep a sour face around him. Even Thorin smiled during the course of dinner.  
  
After the meal, Fili and Kili moved to the drawing room to vegetate in front of the television.  
  
“Nothing’s on, but silly game shows,” Kili complained as he surfed through the channels. He had his legs thrown over the arm of the sofa and his head pillowed on Fili’s thigh. Fili was doing his best to not be eaten by the plush pillows he rested on.  
  
“Watch whatever you want,” Fili said.  
  
Kili eventually settled for watching an action movie, something generic and forgettable and entirely tailored to Fili’s taste. He loved action movies, the terrible lines, the barely-there plot, and the blazing special effects on screen; but somehow, it couldn’t keep his interest. There were the little things, like how the actor was holding the gun wrong and how that was not the way explosives worked in real life. It took him out of the movie and made his fingers twitch, remembering how his hand had wrapped around his SIG P226 with a death grip the first time he had ever seen live combat. He had been terrified.  
  
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes in an effort to tune the movie out. Kili didn’t move a muscle, head still pillowed on Fili’s thigh and his eyes trained on the television.  
  
Fili let the sounds of the movie wash over him, blurring into the background.  
  
He fell into an uneasy sleep, aided by good food and the warmth of his brother.  
  
When he woke, it was to the noise of the television cutting off and he looked up to see Dis standing next to him, remote in her hands. Kili was asleep, drooling onto his thigh.  
  
“Mum,” Fili said, voice coming out in a low croak. He blinked to shake the sleep from his eyes and she smiled at him. She was without a tumbler and instead of the scent of alcohol or wine, she smelled like her favorite shampoo, a strange mix of citrus and something earthy. She looked ready for bed, with her loose hair and soft expression. In the dim lighting of the drawing room, he saw the tell-tale glint of silver starting to emerge from the roots of her hair. She was going to need to dye again soon.  
  
“You don’t know how happy I am to have you home,” Dis whispered. She leaned against the armrest of the sofa, pressing a kiss at the crown of his head. “I’m sorry that I was such a mess this weekend.”  
  
“No, it’s—” he struggled for words, “it’s fine. I understand.”  
  
She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were shining and bright, like the reflection of the moon on moving waters. “Oh, my little boy,” she sighed, her voice small and faraway. She ran a hand through his hair, petting it as if he was five and sick with fever. “My little prince. Don’t run away from us again. We’re family. We love you.”  
  
He couldn’t say anything to that. His throat was tight and his face felt hot and his heart was beating at a thousand decibels in his ears.  
  
Dis didn’t need any words from him; she rubbed his shoulder and pressed another kiss into his hair in understanding. “I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning and wanted to say good-bye before I left. I hope you won’t be too lonely staying here by yourself.” She gave him a small smile and then glanced over at Kili, who was still passed out on Fili’s thigh. It was a wonder his leg hasn’t gone numb yet. “I worry the most about you, Fili. Take care of yourself.”  
  
She leaned over and pressed her hand against Kili’s hair, smoothing over it for a few strokes before retracting. She sighed, a slow and quiet exhale, the sound stealing into the air and dissipating in a measured decrescendo.  
  
“Sleep well, boys,” she said fondly as she left the room.  
  
“Good night,” Fili called back, having finally found his voice and was surprised to hear Kili saying it with him.  
  
Kili sat up and yawned, stretching his arms over his head in a move that nearly whacked Fili in the face with a fist. “What time is it?” he asked.  
  
“Late enough,” Fili replied. “Come on, up. Bedtime.”  
  
Kili snorted. “No need to talk to me like I’m three, you know.”  
  
“You were drooling on me like you were a three year old,” Fili said with a grin. He sat up from the sofa, his body complaining at the change of position. He stretched, trying to work out the cricks in his joints, when Kili pulled him back down onto the sofa by hooking a finger into his pants pocket.  
  
“Sleep with me tonight,” Kili whispered, heated and fierce and more awake than Fili supposed him to be.  
  
“Don’t be stupid,” Fili whispered back. “Thorin and Bilbo are just down the hall, and not to mention Mum’s room up the next landing. We don’t exactly have thick walls here.”  
  
“I like where your thoughts are,” Kili said with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows, “but I just want you in my bed, with me. That’s all.”  
  
“You are the worst bed sharer ever,” Fili countered, keeping his tone light. “Get your hand out of my pocket or the possibility of you getting any in the next year is zero.”  
  
Kili didn’t move his hand; instead, he pulled Fili closer to him until FIli was nearly situated in his lap. “Oh,” he said, more of a breath than a word, his mouth right next to Fili’s ear, so close that Fili could practically hear the smile tugging on Kili’s lips. “I didn’t know that was on the table.” He pressed a kiss, the lightest touch that Fili had ever felt, at the nape of Fili’s neck.  
  
The shiver then ran down Fili’s spine was unbidden and when he looked at Kili, he snorted at the obvious puppy eyes. “Fine,” he said, pulling Kili up with him from the sofa.  
  
Kili didn’t hesitate to drape himself all over Fili. “Carry me,” he whined, a grin on his face.  
  
“You are a spoiled little brat,” Fili said, rolling his eyes. Nonetheless, he grabbed Kili around the middle and hoisted him over a shoulder before he decided to change his mind.  
  
Kili laughed from his position as Fili carried him out of the drawing room and into the main hall. As they left, he caught sight of the clock, its small hand resting just above the roman numerals for eleven and the big hand on top of the twelve. They were going up the stairs when Kili said; “I like this view. You have a very nice ass.”  
  
“I can and will drop you,” Fili threatened, feeling his face flush at the compliment. He wouldn’t drop Kili, at least not with harmful intentions in mind.  
  
He opened the door to Kili’s room and deposited his brother on the bed as he would a bag of cement unceremoniously and quickly. The place was just as messy as always, with clothes strewn about everywhere. The window was slightly ajar to let fresh air in and the temperature was chilly, the cold seeping in from the rising fog outside. In a few days, this room would be bare and without Kili.  
  
As Kili reached over to turn on the light, Fili took a seat on the bed and watched him. Kili looked back, youthful cockiness and confidence radiating from the way he held himself, in the tilt of his head and the way his lips curved into a smile just shy of a smirk. It was a smile that Fili recognized, one that Kili gave when he was blissfully content.  
  
Fili scooted closer and cupped Kili’s face, his fingers and palms feeling the hard stubble around Kili’s jaws for the first time. Kili froze where he sat, waiting, his eyes half lidded as he watched and anticipated.    
  
Fili should say something, anything. There were many things between them that they needed to mend, but he hardly knew where to start. He exhaled, bringing their heads together and kissed Kili, long and soft and slow, until Kili’s face was flushed and his eyes gone dark. Fili pressed another lingering kiss to Kili’s opened mouth and pulled back, still close enough that he could feel Kili’s breath dance across his skin.  
  
“I need you,” Kili croaked, his forehead against Fili’s. Whether it was from the late night or repressed emotion, Fili didn’t know. When he tried to look away, Kili gripped his right hand in an iron-tight hold, forcing Fili to look back up. “You don’t even—” Kili choked on the words and a shadow flickered over his eyes. “You can’t leave again. I won’t let you.”  
  
The hold that Kili had his hand in was starting to hurt, but that pain was nothing compared to the scars in his heart, being picked opened again after so many years. He didn’t have any words to say and let Kili hang on to him like a lifeline.  
  
==  
  
  
The morning came too soon for Fili. Despite how tired he was, his body was still set on a strict time schedule and the moment the clock hit five forty-five A.M., he was wide awake. Kili was curled up in the blankets next to him, snoring lightly, face pressed into the pillow. There was an errant strand of hair falling over his face, just across his eyes and over the bridge of his nose and it was a wonder that it didn’t tickle Kili into wakefulness. Fili smoothed his hair back gently and crawled out of bed.  
  
Weak, budding sunlight poured in from the cracks beyond the curtain on the windows and Fili stretched, picking up his clothes that he folded so meticulously the night before from the top of the dresser. He had just put his shirt on when he became aware of the silence in the room.  
  
“Good morning,” he said without turning to look at Kili.  
  
“Morning,” Kili returned sleepily. “You’re up early.” He heard the shuffling of blankets as Kili got out of bed.  
  
“Heading back to my room to change,” Fili said. “I’m going for a run.” He glanced over then, watching as Kili sat at the edge of the mattress, eyes glazed over and jaws slack. Fili chuckled under his breath and picked up the discarded blankets, tucking it around Kili’s shoulders. “It’s still early. You can sleep in for a bit.”  
  
Kili took that chance to lean against him, one arm snaking around his leg and clinging like a child. He was warm and heavy and while the grip Kili had his leg in was loose, the hold was sturdy enough that Fili couldn’t just twist away.  
  
It softened something within him to see Kili so vulnerable and Fili let Kili lean against him for a while longer; he ran a hand through Kili’s hair, combing through the long length of it with blunt nails. He felt every inhale and exhale of breath Kili took, the expanding and depressing of his chest, and Fili felt it when Kili started to relax into slumber again.  
  
“Kili,” he called, shaking his brother. “You can’t sleep on me.”  
  
“You’re the best mattress,” Kili murmured, though after a moment, he let go.  
  
Fili smiled and took it as his chance to leave. He made it five steps at most—he had just stepped foot into the cool air of the hall when Kili grabbed him from behind into a rough hug. He was pulled flush against Kili’s chest, Kili’s head burying itself at the nape of his neck, and the blankets that he had just put around Kili’s shoulders were wrapped around the both of them.  
  
It was still early; no one else was awake—a quick glance down the hall proved that all the doors to occupied bedrooms were closed.  
  
“What is it?” he asked, folding his own arms over Kili’s.  
  
Kili didn’t answer him, just held on tightly with trembling hands, and Fili let him.  
  
Fili never found out what was bothering Kili; instead, Kili whispered in a strained, but sleep-addled voice: “I never got my good morning kiss.”  
  
“I wasn’t aware that I needed to give you one,” Fili replied, voice pitched just as low so as to not wake anyone up.  
  
“Don’t you know? It’s how I get up in the mornings.”  
  
Kili turned him around and pressed him up against the nearest wall, their hands still holding fast onto each other, caught between their bodies, and kissed him. It was insistent and rough and underneath it all was a needy loneliness that Fili tasted, a strange desperation that seemed to have come from nowhere. He kissed back, changing the rhythm into something slower, trying to soothe and calm the wildness.    
  
“Are you alright?” he asked, breathless when they separated. He could see proper sunlight starting to peek around from the curtains of Kili’s window, bright and golden and warm, and he could tell that the weather would be fair for the day.  
  
“Yeah,” Kili replied, his words breathy; he’d lost the strange, manic edge about him and Fili managed a small smile.  
  
“Kisses with morning breath,” he joked after a silent beat. “My favorite.”  
  
Kili chuckled and leaned in again to press a chaste, closed mouth kiss against Fili’s lips. “You should wait for a bit before heading out,” he said, bringing up a thumb to trace Fili’s mouth. “You look—hmm. I like the way you look now.”  
  
Fili swatted at him and Kili ducked out of the way, laughing. They probably would have carried on joking if they didn’t hear a muffled thump from one of the bedrooms. Fili jumped at the noise and they both looked down the hall, but it didn’t seem like anyone was up yet; the whole floor was still, but if someone had been spying on them, Fili doubted that he’d have noticed. The sense of danger passed, he relaxed.  
  
“I’m going to go wash up now,” Fili said, a hand resting on the handle of his door. With his other hand, he made a shooing gesture.  
  
Kili grinned widely, having returned to his innately cheerful self. “You go do that.”  
  
==  
  
When Fili returned from his run, there was only enough time for frantic good-byes before Dis, Simun, and Bilbo were piled into Minty with Thorin as the driver. Thorin had taken one look at the odometer and swiveled his head to glare fiercely at Fili, who was shaking hands awkwardly with Simun.  
  
“Come visit us sometime, yeah?” Simun was saying when Fili saw the fearsome glare directed at him over Simun’s shoulder.  
  
“Sometime,” Fili agreed blithely as Kili snickered. “Have a good trip; don’t drown on the boat.”  
  
Dis rolled her eyes fondly at the quip and tapped Thorin on the back of the head, calling out; “Away, driver!”  
  
“I am not your driver,” Fili heard Thorin grumble, but nonetheless, he started the car and slowly drove out of the driveway. Fili and Kili waved in tandem and in the backseat, Dis waved good-bye back frantically, her eyes pinned on them for as long as they were in sight. Fili watched the ugly car until it disappeared down the slope and into the city streets.  
  
“Uncle’s going to have an extra wrinkle when he comes back,” Kili said as they walked back to the house. “I can tell.”  
  
Fili snorted, but privately agreed. At least, it seemed that Dis and Thorin were on speaking terms again.  
  
The day passed by quietly, with most of it spent outdoors in the vast backyard garden. Bifur was there, attending to the weeds and the growing hedges. Fili offered to help, but he was waved away; Bifur probably remembered the last time Fili tried to help and ended up chopping a hole straight through a bush instead of trimming it as he was supposed to. Strangely enough, Kili remembered the ordeal in vivid detail and he recounted the story in between breathy laughs.  
  
“I’ve never seen Grandfather so speechless before,” Kili said.  
  
Fili rolled his eyes and shoved at Kili’s shoulder playfully and that became a tussling match on the grass and only ended when they rolled into the little stream that ran through the gardens. They went back inside, sopping wet and laughing, and Thorin, upon catching sight of them, sighed.  
  
They shared a bed again that night, but this time, it was in Fili’s room. The little knights sat on top of his dresser and Kili almost knocked them over when he reached over to turn off the light.  
  
“Sorry, Sir Fili the Noble,” Kili said as he put the toy back in place.  
  
“Oh, shut up,” Fili said, feeling oddly embarrassed at that. Even in the darkness, he could tell that Kili was smirking and when he felt the press of lips against his own, he confirmed the telltale lift to the corners of Kili’s mouth. They fell asleep late that night, limbs entangled, and Kili using Fili as a pillow.  
  
The end of the week came and sprang on Fili without any preamble; the weather was nice and Kili had woken him with butterfly kisses against his shoulder and neck.  
  
“You’re very tense sometimes when you sleep, you know,” Kili said as they got out of bed to do their morning routines.  
  
Fili shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “I didn’t know,” he replied noncommittally as possible.  
  
Kili was silent for a long moment and then sighed. “Okay,” he said, sounding very tired even though they’ve only just got out of bed. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”  
  
“Yeah,” Fili replied, opening his door to step out into the hallway. “See you.”  
  
He ran twice as hard as he usually would the moment his shoes hit the ground outside; he finished his usual track early and he thought about wasting time with some more laps, but decided against it. He knew what today was after all; he wasn’t about to miss saying good-bye to his brother. The short time they’d spent together had been so torturously bittersweet.  
  
Kili was sitting at the dining room table when Fili entered, still sweaty and in his running pants. His shirt was sticking to the curve of his back, but he could shower later. Thorin was there too, a mug of coffee at hand and scrolling through a tablet in the other. He grunted something that sounded like a greeting to Fili.  
  
“You’re back early,” Kili commented.  
  
“Finished early,” Fili replied, taking a seat next to Kili. He grabbed a fork and speared a sausage from the spread on the table.  
  
“You’re not an animal; get a plate,” Thorin growled, eyes still fixed on his tablet. It was a wonder how he even saw that without looking up.  
  
Kili shrugged and handed him an empty plate, which Fili started to pile food on. It was mostly meat that he ate, with a side of eggs and toast; Kili and Thorin’s plate were similarly loaded, though Fili spotted a healthy helping of tomatoes pushed to the side on Thorin’s plate, nearly untouched. Fili laughed internally at that—everyone in the family tended to eat like carnivores.  
  
When he finished, Kili jerked his head lightly in the universal motion of ‘let’s go,’ but Thorin spoke before either of them were able to get up out of their seats.  
  
“Fili, a word,” he said. His tablet screen was blank and hadn’t been in use for several minutes.  
  
“Sure,” Fili replied.  
  
Thorin sent Kili a look and waved him away. “Go pack your things, I know how you are,” Thorin said.  
  
Kili made a face at that, but obediently left the room, quirking an eyebrow at Fili just before the dining room door shut him from view. Fili couldn’t hear him walk away, but then again, he wasn’t listening for the footsteps; instead, he was focused on Thorin, doing his best to not squirm in place. Even after Kili had left, Thorin was quiet for a time, staring and gauging something in his thoughts that Fili wasn’t privy to.  
  
“What are you going to do?” he asked, breaking the silence.  
  
Fili sighed; it was the same thing that Kili had wanted to know back in the bookstore. “I thought about staying here,” he said, spinning his fork in between his thumb and forefinger. “But I don’t know if I want to.”  
  
Thorin managed a tight smile at that. He got up from his usual seat at the head of the table and sat in the spot that Kili had vacated and in that instance, Thorin seemed like a very tired and burdened man. When did his favorite uncle become like this? The uncle who was stubborn as a mule and with the indomitable spirit of fire?  
  
There were dark circles under Thorin’s eyes and the wrinkles along the corner of them seemed deeper and more pronounced. The grey in his hair looked starker somehow, and for once, Thorin’s unbowed posture was slack as he leaned an arm on the table.  
  
“You are always welcomed here,” Thorin said quietly, his deep voice reverberating through Fili’s ears. “You were born and raised here. This is your home.”  
  
Fili nodded, his uncle’s sharp eyes boring holes into his skull. Thorin continued.  
  
“Your mother is worried about you staying here alone and I agree with her. But you are old enough to make decisions on your own and where you live is one of them.” He brought a hand up to squeeze Fili’s arm. “Don’t be a stranger.”  
  
The heaviness of Thorin’s hand was like a steady rock jutting from beneath tumultuous waves, settling the storm within Fili with a touch. His grip was warm and tight, almost painfully so.  
  
“Kili asked me,” Fili admitted, “if I wanted to go back to Bristol. He said I could have my old room back.”  
  
Thorin remained silent, though he kept his hand firmly on Fili’s arm as a reassuring gesture. When Fili couldn’t find the words to say, Thorin prompted, not unkindly: “What was your response?”  
  
“I told him I would think about it.”  
  
Thorin gave Fili’s arm another squeeze and let go. He sighed and leaned back into the chair, steepling his fingers in front of him as he stared at the leftover breakfast foods on the table.  
  
“Brothers are always difficult,” he said at last, though Fili wasn’t sure which brother Thorin was referring to—Frerin or Kili.  
  
“Kili means well,” Fili said slowly and Thorin nodded in agreement, though he looked lost in thought.  
  
When he was on the little ferry riding from the mainland to the island, Fili had been filled with trepidation and dread. He hadn’t particularly wanted to see Kili again, not when he had just healed all the metaphorical wounds—but being with Kili again, just seeing his brother brought everything back. Dead feelings, buried memories, ghostly obsessions—he needed Kili in his life.  
  
“I should go pack,” Fili said, his voice coming out hoarse for no reason at all.  
  
Thorin turned to look at him. “Idiot,” he said, voice fond. “Hurry up or you’ll be late for the afternoon’s ferry. I’m not going to make multiple trips for idiot nephews.”  
  
Fili laughed, feeling like a weight had been removed from his chest. He stood, his mouth unable to stop smiling, and asked: “Is that because you don’t want to be seen with Minty in public?”  
  
Thorin glanced at him very seriously. “Do not touch my car,” he said sternly. “And she is one of my pride and joys.”  
  
“Oh? There’re others?” Fili asked, mostly as a joke, but Thorin’s gaze went soft.  
  
“Yes,” he said quietly. His fingers were still steepled in front of him as he spoke. “And one of them is you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://pinkmilkbutt.tumblr.com/post/45339962087)[](http://pinkmilkbutt.tumblr.com/post/45187106998)[pinkmilkbutt](http://pinkmilkbutt.tumblr.com) @ tumblr
> 
> Go tell her how amazing these are!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, some of you caught me fiddling with the draft of this chapter the other day. You know who you are. ;)
> 
> This chapter wouldn't have been possible without the help of my wonderful beta, Scarlett_Kingston.

While the Estate was sprawling and quiet, the Bristol flat was anything but. It was centered in a metropolis where there were noises of cars and people at nearly all hours. The rooms were much smaller too, as was the kitchen—which wasn’t much of a kitchen at all; a kitchenette, perhaps. The microwave was tucked above the stove and was in need of a good cleaning out; bits and pieces of exploded food parts were sticking to the inside and it didn’t seem like either Ori or Kili cared about its sloppy state. The sink was set in the space next to the stove, already overflowing with dirty dishes.

Fili’s room was mostly untouched. Old posters hung in place, long forgotten schoolbooks squeezed into the single shelf above the desk. He set his suitcase to the side of his tiny bed, feeling like he’s stepped into a time machine. His room had been cleaned as there was no dust on any of the surfaces and when he settled down on his mattress, the sheets smelled strangely fresh.

“Uncle told me you were going to be back for the funerals,” Kili admitted, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorway to Fili’s room. “I was going to convince you to come here to live again.” He smiled, a tiny quirk of his lips. “Thank god I laundered the sheets, right?”

Fili rolled his eyes, a mix of feelings in his chest churning, extending its warm tendrils to his extremities. He hoped the rest of his belongings would be sent along soon.

“The kitchen’s a mess. So is the living room.”

Kili made a face and shrugged, not at all ashamed. “We’re not always around. We try, though.”

“I can see that,” Fili said, deadpan.

Kili laughed and crossed the space between them, plucking the pillow out from under Fili’s head and shoving it over his face. “Mister Observant,” he said as Fili shook it off and threw it at Kili in retaliation.

It was strange to be here. Fili hadn’t spent as much time in Bristol as he did at the Estate, but he expected Dis to come passing by his room at any moment, giving the both of them a pointed glare, and telling them that it was past their bedtime. But Dis wasn’t here and it didn’t matter when their bedtime was; they were both grown men now, not the boys they used to be.

The bed bounced as Kili landed on the empty space next to Fili with his knees. He fluffed the pillow and dropped it onto Fili’s stomach before laying his head on top, giving an exaggerated sigh of relief.

“Comfortable?” Fili asked. One of his arms was trapped under Kili’s weight and when he wriggled it, Kili just wriggled back, settling further against him.

“Very,” Kili replied, smug.

Fili rolled his eyes again and with his free hand, idly combed through his brother’s hair. It was in a desperate need of a pair of scissors, having grown long over time, and judging from the knots that Fili was feeling, he wasn’t very good with the upkeep either. He tugged lightly at Kili’s hair, working out the tangles as best he could with one hand. Kili had his eyes closed, a serene expression on his face. Outside, Fili could hear the shrill sounds of a car alarm interrupting the otherwise relatively quiet night.

“I wish I didn’t have work in the morning,” Kili sighed.

Fili paused in his ministrations. It was a silly question, but he couldn’t stop it from tumbling out of his mouth regardless: “You work?”

Kili grinned up at him. “Course I do,” he replied. “There’s bills to pay, Mum’s off with Simun, and I’m not about to go ask Uncle for money.”

He knew all of this, somewhere in the deepest recesses of his mind. It was the adult thing to do, after growing up. Get a job. Pay bills. Find love. Get married. Fili said the only thing he could. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” said Kili and he groaned as he raised himself into sitting position. “Productive member of society and all that jazz. Do I get a good night kiss?”

Fili pointed at the door. “Get out and leave my pillow alone.”

“Tetchy,” Kili said, but leaned in to peck him on the forehead anyway. Fili obliged him and then shoved him off onto the thin carpeted floor.

“Good night,” he said with finality, a smile tugging at his mouth. Kili returned the smile with a wave and shut the door as he left.

Fili turned to his suitcase and prepared for bed.

==

The old, glow-in-the-dark clock hanging above the dresser had its hands pointing firmly at two o’clock in the morning and Fili was confused as to what woke him so abruptly. There had been a sound; muffled, like a gun with a silencer, but that had been in his dream.

There was a creak from the floorboards next to his bed, though in the darkness he saw nothing. He laid still, one arm dangling over the mattress and the other curled under his pillow, slowly clenching into a fist. Something soft brushed against his fingers. Fili breathed in deeply as the bed dipped, someone taking a seat on the edge of it. He pinched the bridge of his nose and counted backwards from ten.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his words coming out clipped and snappish despite the croak of sleep in it.

Kili didn’t answer the question; instead, he slid under the covers next to Fili. “Move over,” he said.

“What are you—don’t you have work tomorrow?”

Kili hummed something that sounded like a confirmation and sprawled himself over Fili when he refused to budge, warm like a furnace and as heavy as the combat pack he had become accustomed to carrying. An arm snaked around his middle, securing him in place below Kili.

“This bed has never been big enough for the both of us,” Fili said, but the complaint fell on deaf ears. Kili was settling himself in comfortably, head pillowed at the crook of Fili’s neck.

“Doesn’t matter,” Kili mumbled after a yawn. “Shh, stop thinking. It’s too late for that.”

Fili could have pushed him off; it would have been so easy to grab Kili by the shoulders and throw him to the floor. Kili wouldn’t realize what was happening, wouldn’t even react in time, not with the way he was loose and drowsy. A fight would inevitably ensue and that would definitely wake Ori, who was sleeping in the master bedroom just down the hall. Fili clenched both his hands into fists and concentrated on steadying his breathing, doing his best to ignore the weight on his chest and the blossoming headache in his skull. His room was blessed darkness, only the fuzzy shapes of furniture visible in the dim glow of the clock hands.

“We’re not at the Estate anymore,” he said, nearly getting a mouthful of hair for speaking. “You can’t keep doing this.”

“Mmm,” Kili replied. It wasn’t an agreement, but neither was it a disagreement. He was avoiding an answer.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Go to sleep,” Kili whispered. He sounded tired of the conversation. “We can talk later.”

Fili sighed and closed his eyes, exhausted and not wanting to argue at such a late hour. He forced himself to relax, but was watching the moving shapes behind his eyelids, unable to sleep. The quiet ticking noise of the clock crescendoed in the silence, sounding like an ominous explosion waiting to be set off. Eventually, he passed out in between listening to Kili’s deep, easy breaths and his steady heartbeat, pounding lively against Fili’s ribcage.

It didn’t seem like much time had passed when he was being jostled awake by Kili moving out of bed; it was morning now, with slivers of weak sunlight streaming around the blinds of the window, and a quick glance at the clock confirmed that it was a bit before six in the morning. Kili smiled back groggily when he noticed Fili was watching him.

Fili rubbed his eyes and pulled the blankets closer around him. It was strangely chilly this morning; it was one of those days where it was cold enough that no one wanted to get out of bed and Fili leached the remaining heat Kili left behind greedily. He couldn’t hold his peace, not anymore.

“You’re an idiot.”

There was a measurable pause.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

“I know what you’re doing. I know why. It’s very flattering that you want me around, even when you’re asleep. But this has to stop,” Fili said, sitting up in bed, blankets and all. He pinned his brother with a withering glare and Kili stared back.

“What?” Kili’s voice was on the border of a squeak.

“I’m not about to up and leave in the middle of the night. You really don’t need to keep watch over me or whatever it is that you’re doing because I’m not going anywhere. You asked me to come live with you and here I am, so stop being so paranoid.” Fili waited for it to sink in before adding: “Idiot.”

Kili blinked, his face schooled into an imperceptible mask of neutrality. He took a seat at the very edge of the bed, just out of Fili’s reach. “I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were.”

A short silence reigned between them; Kili stared wordlessly at Fili and Fili stared resolutely back. It was the dull shriek of Kili’s alarm going off that jarred the both of them back to reality.

“Sorry, sorry,” Kili muttered, grabbing his phone from the desk and switching off the alarm with an absent flick of his finger. His slackened fingers dropped the phone onto the carpeted floor and with it, whatever emotional control he wrested with internally. His eyes were filled with reproach, and beneath his resolve was an incomprehensible ferocity. “If you leave again—”

Fili surged forward on the bed, drawing Kili into an embrace. The blankets fell over them, comforting and cozy, and Kili buried his head against Fili’s shoulder, his ice cold hands pressed against the fabric of Fili’s shirt as he held on tight.

“This is why you’re an idiot,” Fili murmured.

“You’re the idiot,” came Kili’s reply and Fili smacked him upside the head tenderly, fondly.

“I know you too well,” Fili said. “You don’t need to lie or hide from me.”

Kili turned to look at him, brows furrowed. If there was any doubt left, Fili had to clear them and he seized the initiative, kissing Kili for all he was worth, pressing wordless promises of togetherness against Kili’s mouth, forcing him to acknowledge that Fili was there, with him. Even after the seemingly long years of absence, they were still Fili-and-Kili, made as an unbreakable duo.

Kili was quiet and still at first, then slowly and gently, he kissed back, hands roaming and pushing them both down and back into bed.

“You’re such a brat,” Fili said against the curve of Kili’s lips. He felt Kili smile and press a trail of tickling kisses down the side of his neck.

“Am I an idiot or a brat? Make up your mind,” Kili replied and Fili thought that he sounded better, happier.

“Both,” Fili shot back and groaned at the love bite that Kili no doubt was sucking onto his neck. “Oh, my god. Stop it.”

Kili pulled back, a wide grin on his face and pressed a wet, messy kiss to Fili’s temple. “Alright, alright. I’m off for a shower. You’re welcomed to join me.” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively and Fili laughed, shoving him out of bed with a single hand. It was becoming a habit.

“Christ,” Kili said. “I’ll never get used to that.”

Fili sat up, worried that he might have pushed too hard.

“You okay?”

Kili leaned over, his dark hair falling in a terrible, seductive veil over his face, and whispered into Fili’s ear: “You should hold me down sometimes; I think I’d really like that.”

He was gone, out the door like a breath of air and disappearing from sight, leaving Fili with the heat pooling at the bottom of his stomach. _Cheeky bastard_ , Fili thought as he put one foot on the floor, ready to get out of bed.

Ori, wearing a ridiculous plaid onesie, passed by the opened door and did a double-take. Fili scrambled for the blankets, securing them over his lap.

“Good morning,” Ori said, blinking. Fili hoped he didn’t look too out of sorts or kissed stupid and that everything could be passed off as a terrible night spent sleeping. It wouldn’t be too far off the truth.

“Morning,” Fili coughed, his voice sounding rougher than he liked. He used one hand to cover where he thought the love bite was, pretending that he was just waking up and scratching an itch.

Ori smiled, buying whatever Fili was projecting, and nodded. “Welcome back,” he said. “Kili never did want to lease out your room. I’m glad you’re here; he’s a bit of a nightmare to live with. I’m not sure how you managed before.”

“Benefits of being a brother, I suppose,” Fili replied. “Imagine having to live with Nori or Dori?”

Ori made a face at that. “No, thanks very much.” He immediately changed the subject. “Do you want some breakfast?”

==

It became routine for Fili to wake up earlier than Ori and Kili on weekdays. He made them breakfast—proper food, not just leftover takeout from weeks before—making sure they ate healthily and not just what they liked. Cleaning the flat took the whole first week; the kitchen took the better part of two days to tidy. Long dried unidentifiable sauces littered the countertops, giving it a sticky, glossy sheen. The cabinets had a strange shine to them that Fili discovered might have been oil at one point and the microwave looked like a nuclear fallout had happened inside.

Kili had been remarkably unhelpful with cleaning and Ori only marginally so. Fili was amazed that insects and mould hadn’t taken over the whole kitchen yet. After making sure they were properly fed, he went on his customary runs.

“Bye, Mum!” Kili would mockingly wave whenever he left. Fili never hesitated to give him the two fingered salute.

The neighborhood hadn’t changed much since he was last here. The cross sections were busy and the local coffee shops were teeming with customers for the early morning rush. Students were seen walking to the public school that was several blocks from where he lived.

He was older now and not one of children walking to school. He was just another man on the street, jogging in the mornings. He wondered how they saw him.

When he returned home, Kili would have left for work by then and occasionally Ori would be sitting either at the kitchen table with several books or sitting on the living room sofa, laptop propped on his knees as he typed away. Fili hated to bother him during those moments. Mostly though, Fili got the place to himself and he picked up their schedules rather quickly. Kili worked from seven to four and Ori only had classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

He finished simple tasks that needed to be done quickly and efficiently. Whenever Kili or Ori muttered a complaint about something that needed fixing, he did it, whether it was fixing the broken lock on the bathroom door or doing the laundry. The days blurred on by, the earth rotated, and Fili stayed in his locked loop.

“You’re fussing,” Ori commented one day. He was sitting on the sofa, surrounded by long winded papers.

Fili paused in straightening out the groceries in the kitchen. “What?”

“Not that it’s a bad thing!” Ori said hastily. “I just…think you should get out more? You’re always home and I think that sometimes…you’re a bit…bored?” The longer Ori spoke, the higher his voice went until the last word which came out as a high pitched squeak.

“I do go out,” Fili said, not quite sure what Ori was trying to say. He gestured to the groceries he was putting away.

“No,” Ori shook his head. “I mean, with friends? Or…or maybe something you’d like to do? A hobby?”

Fili furrowed his brows. “Am I being a bother?” he asked.

Ori frantically shook his head, reminding Fili of a frightened animal. “No! Not a bother!” He blinked and reeled himself back in. “Would you like to come out for a drink with me and my colleagues? We’re planning on going Friday. In the evening. When everyone’s free. You should come. Please?”

For someone whose mastery was in the field of literature, Ori wasn’t very eloquent with spoken words. He had always remembered Ori to be on the shy side and he thought the contrast between Ori’s verbal and writing abilities was quite endearing. Although, it was strange as he hadn’t seen Ori stumble over sentences when conversing with Kili.

“I’m not much of a drinker or a book reader,” Fili said. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep a conversation at all.”

“Just—just come?” Ori pleaded. “I’ll ask Kili to come too, if it’ll make it more comfortable for you.”

Fili stared at Ori for a moment and then relented. Ori only means well, he thought to himself. It couldn’t hurt to go.

“Fine,” Fili said. “I’ll go if Kili goes.”

Ori beamed, relieved. “Okay!” he exclaimed and whipped out his cell phone, immediately texting someone on it, thumbs moving at a lightning speed over the touchscreen.

Fili returned to putting the rest of the groceries away. The fridge was fully stocked now, not like the typical student fridge it used to be. Instead of the frightful amount of bottles and cans of alcohol, enough to make a Christmas tree that reached the ceiling, there were vegetables and dairy and fruit and meat.

He didn’t feel like cooking then. He kept the fridge stocked when he could; Kili had a big appetite and Ori, for someone so quiet, was particular about his food. Some days he cooked the evening meal in lieu of anything to do, but tonight was not one of those.

Fili was afraid of staying in the flat any longer and so, grabbing only his money and keys, he quietly left the building and went out into the street. The sun was gently setting and the traffic moved at a sluggish pace.

Kili would be home soon.

The park by the Avon was far by foot, though he traversed it step by step. There were couples walking in loving tandem through the roads, and his impression of the park—made so long ago—was of solitude. It was everywhere in the twilight, hushing the trees and the giggling lovers, seeping up through the serrated sides of the road.

He jogged along it, hoping to clear the ugly, complicated tangle of thoughts in his head, and when he doubled back, he became aware of a second jogger following in his steps.

He’d recognize Kili anywhere.

Silence was exchanged between them, their pants of breath answering notes to a symphony made only for them in the dwindling light of the day.

Fili lead the run, Kili half a step behind him as he always used to be. He was half a step behind him the day they got in trouble for trying to sneak one of Bombur’s pies. Its crust had been golden and crisp and Fili had wanted dessert immediately instead of supper, but he had burned his grubby little fingers on the pan. He hadn’t realized the pies came straight out of the oven and in his pain, he stepped backwards onto Kili’s toes. Kili was half a step behind him when Fili got his first driving lesson. He didn’t know Kili was behind him then and almost slammed the car door on Kili’s fingers.

He was aware of Kili now, the easy way he kept up with Fili as they ran.

It was getting dark and there was nothing that Fili could run away from. He slowed and stopped, Kili echoing his actions.

“Done?” Kili asked. He handed Fili the extra coat hanging from his arms.

Fili shrugged. “For now.”

Kili flashed a quick smile, out of breath.

The walk back to the flat was lengthy and drawn out, Kili insisting on meandering the long way home at the slowest pace possible. They passed by warmly lit restaurants and shops, loud pubs, and closed cafes.

Kili laced their fingers together as they walked and Fili almost balked at the action. He was here in one of the most populated cities of England, at night, where no one in the world knew they were brothers.

They turned down a less crowded street and Fili pushed Kili up against the nearest vertical surface, aligning their bodies to fit flush against one another. He leaned forward and Kili met him half way in a fervent, hungry kiss. It was as much a reassurance as it was a greeting, an apology, an I-missed-you, that sent a dizzying rush of blood straight to Fili’s groin.

There was a loud cheer from behind them and Fili ducked his head in embarrassment at the group of friends that walked past. They seemed a little drunk too early in the evening, but Fili himself was feeling hazy and inebriated and very brave.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but you have to know,” Kili said. He had quirked an eyebrow at the group that passed them, but otherwise didn’t react.

“I already know,” Fili insisted, resting their foreheads together, feeling their breaths mingle and linger until he wasn’t sure whose breath was whose.

“I care. A lot,” Kili said. “I hate not being able to tell anyone.”

“I know,” Fili replied and kissed him again, tender, soft, slow.

When they separated, Fili asked: “Did you eat yet?”

Kili shook his head.

“Let’s get dinner.”

They chose an Italian place and sat in a cozy corner holding hands through the meal. When Kili tried to get him to reenact a spaghetti noodle scene from a kid’s movie, Fili had laughed and stole his unguarded meatballs. It still ended with a kiss.

The world didn’t explode. They weren’t brothers, just two people in a big city in love, and the waiter had smiled at them.

“Ori’s worried,” said Kili in between bites of his spaghetti. He had a slight frown on his face as he thought. “I’m worried. He said that you tend to stay at home too long and too often with nothing to do. Will you come, on Friday?”

Fili shrugged. “I suppose,” he said.

“I won’t push you,” was what came out of Kili’s mouth, but the expression he had on his face told a different story.

“I’ll go,” Fili promised and on impulse, he tugged Kili into another kiss.

Kili smiled against his mouth. “Okay.”

When Fili paid for the meal, he made sure to tip the waiter extra.

==

That was how, on Friday, Fili found himself bundling up in one of his many old tawny colored peacoats. It was well into autumn now and the weather was turning into something downright nasty, but what was England without rain or cold? The weather had been one of the things Fili missed when he was abroad, but now that he was back, he found himself liking it less than he thought he would.

Kili was sitting in the middle of Fili’s bed, already dressed in a nice looking blue coat. If Fili didn’t know better, he might’ve guessed that Kili was sneaking candid photographs with his phone.

“I hope you’re not taking pictures,” Fili warned, buttoning the last of his buttons. There was one up by the collar that was hanging on by a single strand of thread and he made a mental note to patch it later when he got back, provided that it didn’t fall off some time later in the evening.

“Nope!” Kili replied cheerily, sliding his phone into the pocket of his trousers. “Ori’s probably worrying himself into the carpet if you take any longer to choose your clothes.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to look presentable,” Fili said. He wasn’t at all like Kili, who seemed to look good in anything he wore. Fili was too well aware that he needed a brand new wardrobe; he had filled out in the shoulders and chest—and to his chagrin, his belly—which made his old clothes nearly impossible to wear. They were too tight, though Kili kept insisting they were fine.

“Sure, princess,” Kili said, taking a hold of his shoulders and steering him out into the living room. Ori was wearing a knitted cardigan that looked quite warm to be in, though he was worrying his bottom lip. Perched upon his nose was a set of thick, black rimmed glasses that he used mostly for reading, though Fili suspected that he was starting to need it on a day-to-day basis. Ori’s expression brightened when he saw them step into view.

“Shall we get going, then?”

Fili nodded, doing one last mental checklist. Wallet, right coat pocket; phone, left coat pocket; keys, inner breast pocket. Was there anything else? He couldn’t think of any.

“Right!” Ori exclaimed with a sunny smile. “Everyone’s already there waiting.”

It was a gastropub near his school and it took a twenty-five minute cab ride to get there. Over its entrance hung a wooden sign, one with a prancing pony on it, and it looked warm from through the windows. Ori ushered them inside and Fili breathed a small sigh of relief to be out of the cold.

It became evident that Kili had met Ori’s colleagues before, since he immediately spotted a group of five sitting around a large booth and cheerfully hollered at them. They recognized him in return and roared in delight, waving him over. Several of them already had mugs of alcohol on hand and there was a platter of finger foods at the center of the table, half of it already gone.

“You’re late!” one of the girls exclaimed when they walked up to the booth. She was blonde, with stringy hair that she tied back into a ponytail and it wasn’t until much later that Fili recalled her name to be Miranda. Ori made a gesture with his hands that sent everyone sitting to scoot over and make space. Somehow, they all managed to squeeze in, with Fili seated in between Ori and Kili.

“This is Fili, my new flatmate. The one I told you about,” Ori introduced with a smile. “He just came back from Afghanistan.”

“Oh, a brave soldier boy,” someone commented. It was an old man, with wild grey hair and beard, smoking something sweet smelling from a pipe. He wore a tweed brown suit with elbow patches and a funny brown cap that had the remains of bird droppings at the top of it; his whole countenance reminded Fili of a hippie. He was just missing a pair of circular glasses and a headband.

He smiled at Fili and raised his pipe in a half salute. “You’ve come home alive. It’s a good sign. Welcome back.”

“That’s Professor Brown,” Ori said and Fili wanted to ask if that was his actual name or if it was because he wore the color from head to toe. He held his tongue because he didn’t want to be rude. “He’s higher than a smokestack right now. You can ignore whatever he says.”

The professor didn’t even look insulted at their exchange. He took a proud puff of his pipe and blew some impressively circular smoke rings into the air.

 _Bookish types_ , Fili thought, not for the first time in his life. _Very strange._

After getting a drink, Fili found himself fielding questions left and right. There were some questions about his tours—interestingly, nothing about the actual deployment, but everything about the strangest things that left Fili wondering what the rest of the world actually knew about the Middle East.

“Were there mutant rats where you were?” a drunk, petite brunette asked. Fili was fairly certain her name was Roz or something like it. “What about spiders? I heard the ones in Afghanistan would hug your face and kill you!”

“That’s a movie,” Kili said, coming to his rescue when he couldn’t find an answer for her.

“They say you can cook an egg on top of your car during the summer! Did you try?”

“No,” Fili replied and sank a little lower in his seat. Kili glared at her and Fili was immensely glad for his brother being beside him.

“Are you single?” the loud blonde girl from before asked. 

She was on her third drink and she was looking very red in the face. She sat across from Kili, at the very edge of the booth where her legs dangled off of the side of the seat so she didn’t have to share leg room with everyone else under the table. Fili suspected Kili would be imitating her, if his foot wasn’t too busy wrapped around Fili’s ankle.

“Miranda!” Kili interrupted loudly before Fili had to muster a response. “You have a boyfriend!” He shot her a scandalized look. “What would he say?”

“No,” she whined drunkenly. “Not for me. You’re exactly my friend’s type. Blond and hot. And dimples. She’d climb you like a tree.”

Fili blushed to the roots of his hair and tried to hide behind his mug. “Erm, thanks,” he mumbled, taking a loud slurp of his beer. It tasted foul and smelled foul and was probably one of the worst shields he could hide behind. “Not looking for any sort of attachments right now.”

“Oh, but you’re free?” She smiled brightly at him, her gaze unfocused. “Just a date; you don’t have to go home with her or anything. Talk to her. She’d love you. And me forever for setting you up.”

Fili felt Kili’s hand on his thigh, heavy and possessive. Kili’s expression was schooled into a friendly grin, but from where Fili sat, it almost looked vicious.

“If it’s that Scottish girl, she isn’t good enough,” Kili said, a strange cattiness to his voice. “She’s a nutter and a slag. Besides, he said no. He’s not interested.”

Miranda stared at Kili and then to Fili and then back. “Who was I talking to?” she finally asked, words slurring together. She put her head down in her arms and sighed loudly. “Oh, why am I swimming?”

“I told you to pace yourself,” a stout, dark haired man next to her said. “Up you get, I know how you are. To the loo, now.”

Miranda slowly got to her feet with some help from her friend, who Fili couldn’t recall the name of for the life of him—Ned? Fred?—and she tottered off to the restroom with him following behind her like a careful bodyguard.

“Her boyfriend?” he whispered to Kili.

“Best friend,” Kili replied. The fake grin had disappeared off his face and he was staring at Fili with a strange intensity. It wasn’t the alcohol; Kili could handle more than one drink and Fili hadn’t even finished a quarter of his. There was something dark and lusty in his gaze, no traces of mirth whatsoever. Fili reached for his mug again. His throat was suddenly very dry.

The night went on and Fili continued to find himself being brought into conversations, even on topics he had no knowledge of. He received a very wordy rant from a half-drunk Ori about the poor reading curriculum in public schools and half of the table argued against him or for him. Fili could barely remember what books he read. He knew the great works; Great-grandfather had been unbending on that issue, but it had been so long since he’d even thought about it, he found that he couldn’t remember anything except the titles. It was like his childhood was a washed out smudge, the only memories that stuck out with clarity were the ones with him and Kili.

He worked through his first drink and was on his second; it had appeared out of nowhere in front of him and when he finished his first, he immediately grabbed at it before it disappeared. The more he drank, the more he listed towards Kili, eventually settling completely on Kili’s shoulder when his head started to get too heavy to hold up.

“You’re gay!” Miranda chirped suddenly, bringing every conversation at the table to a stop. She had come back to the table slightly less drunk, but still red faced and bright eyed. Her tankard had been swapped out for a glass of water ages ago.

“Miranda, you’re drunk, please stop talking,” her stout male friend said. He shot Fili an apologetic look. “Sorry, she gets socially awkward when drunk.”

“No, no,” Fili found himself saying, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “I think I am.”

Ori choked on air next to him.

Kili’s grip on his thigh got tighter. It was heavy and hot and felt so good; he wished it would move higher.

“I think you’ve drank enough,” Kili said, taking Fili’s drink away from him. When he protested, Kili downed it all in one breath. He held up the empty mug with a smile. “No more.”

Fili rolled his eyes. He’d try to sit up straighter, but his spine felt like jelly and leaning into Kili was altogether a better choice than trying to sit with proper posture.

“Hmm. Brat. I’ll remember this.”

Kili’s smile widened and in that moment, Fili wanted nothing more than to be alone with him. Kili must have thought the same because he stood up abruptly, knocking Fili off his balance and slamming the back of his head against the seat. He was lucky that the booth was cushioned or he’d complain about a concussion.

“Right, he’s had too much to drink,” Kili said hurriedly, smile just a bit too bright. “Come on, Fili. Let’s go.” Kili hauled Fili up by the collar of his shirt roughly and Fili couldn’t get his legs under command. He ended up crashing into Kili instead. Firm arms reached around his waist to prop him up against a solid shoulder.

Miranda giggled loudly, like she knew some sort of secret, though both Fili and Kili steadfastly ignored her.

“Nice meeting you all,” Fili called out before Kili hauled him away. “Later, Ori.”

There was a chorus of good-byes, yet when they were just a short distance away, he heard Miranda shrieking; “Why didn’t you tell me that was Kili’s boyfriend?”

They left the building before Fili could hear Ori’s response.

Outside was cold; the blast of air was a shock and almost enough to sober them up, but Fili couldn’t stop leaning against Kili and Kili didn’t seem at all inclined to remove his arm from around Fili’s waist. In fact, he held on tighter than before.

“Home?” Fili asked. His tongue felt numb in his mouth and his throat was dry. Forming words was a herculean task and it felt like his head was floating in the skies. He plucked absently at the belt around Kili’s trousers. He was so very drunk.

Kili made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Why are you such a lightweight,” he muttered, but there was no anger in them, only fondness. Then, louder, he said, “Yes, home. We’re taking a cab.”

Fili felt himself being manhandled down the street as Kili waved enthusiastically to catch the attention of a cabbie. He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember actually getting into the cab, but he must have, as the next moment he and Kili were at the front door of their flat.

“Magic?” Fili muttered against Kili’s chest.

“No, you fell asleep on me,” Kili replied, amusement lacing his voice as he fumbled the keys.

He finally managed to get the door opened after much snickering on Fili’s part and the first thing he did was throw the keys to the floor. It bounced into some shadowed corner of the room, most likely needing a search party in the morning.

“Did you have to say that?” Kili asked. “Did you have to encourage her?”

“What?” He had said many things throughout the course of the evening and nothing in particular or important jumped out at him.

“Miranda!” Kili said. He sounded frustrated.

“I didn’t do anything,” Fili replied. He thought harder at what transpired, but all he wanted to do was lay down and not think. Maybe even go to sleep again. It was like crossing through a thick slog of mud; his thoughts were a jumble and he seemed to have grown two left feet in addition to having jelly for a spine.

He tried to untangle himself from Kili, but his brother was having none of it. Kili hauled him bodily onto the sofa, fingers digging deep into Fili’s old coat. The one button already hanging on by a loose thread snapped off and rolled out of sight.

The kiss that came next was not entirely unexpected. Kili was aggressive and obstinate, pressing their mouths together in bruising, furious kisses. They fell backwards into the cushions, already old and well-worn. Fili remembered sitting on the very sofa watching telly years ago, sometimes with Kili, sometimes with Dis, and sometimes with both.

Fili reached up to grab at Kili’s shoulder, though in his drunken state, he ended up pulling Kili’s jacket half off.

Kili grunted something unintelligible and shrugged off the offending piece of clothing, tossing it somewhere over the sofa without a second thought. His fingers worked at Fili’s coat buttons when Fili himself fumbled at it, unable to make heads or tails of how they worked.

It was frantic and heated and Fili was getting so, so dizzy. He shed his coat, dropping it onto the carpet and almost immediately Kili’s hands were all over him, running over the planes of his shoulder, fingers scraping down the back of his shirt and then pulling up the hem to expose his abdomen. He was kissing, licking, sucking, and biting at Fili’s chest in an instant.

“Not out here,” Fili gasped, managing some semblance of speech and clarity of mind in between kisses. He was aroused and terrified and giddy and much more awake than before; Kili didn’t seem to want to listen and continued to divest him of his clothing, nearly ripping the shirt in two as he yanked it the rest of the way over Fili’s head. His fingers went after the opening to his trousers next and Fili batted his hand away.

“Not here,” Fili insisted again, forcing Kili to listen.

Kili met his gaze and muttered something completely filthy that had Fili laughing at his frustration.

“Come on,” Fili said, summoning what little coordination he had to rise off the sofa.

They ended up in Kili’s room because it was closer. The moment they got the door opened, Kili flicked on the lights and was pushing against him again, pressing their lips together in heated, opened mouthed kisses. Fili groaned as his shin hit the hard corner of Kili’s bedframe. It wasn’t the old metal one that Fili recalled, but one of sturdy wood. The bed was bigger too, not as large as the ones they had on the Estate, but definitely bigger than the one Fili had in his room. Old posters and toys were nowhere to be seen and for a moment, it didn’t look like a room that Fili recognized at all. It was neat and clean and so unlike the whirlwind that was his brother.

Something shifted then; maybe his thoughts had been too visible on his face or Kili knew him too well, but the frantic greediness of their motions slowed.

“Alright?” Kili asked, mouth marking a trail down Fili’s neck. “I can stop.”

“I will kill you if we stop now,” Fili answered and felt the responding chuckle reverberate against his own chest, the sensation making his toes curl in pleasure.

“It was a mistake to go tonight,” Kili said, working on pulling Fili’s trousers off.

“They were nice people.”

Kili grunted. “They were making you uncomfortable.”

“Can we not talk about this now?” Fili snapped.

Kili paused and nodded. “Later,” he mouthed into Fili’s skin, making Fili arch into his touch. Finally, the last article of clothing was stripped away.

It was the first time that Fili’s ever seen adult Kili naked. He kept the perfect skin tone throughout his body, something that Fili didn’t have. He still had a tee-shirt tan, though that was quickly fading thanks to English weather and the onset of autumn. He reached up and tugged lightly at the dark hair that ran over Kili’s chest, watching as Kili shivered at the touch, eyes drooping closed leisurely. Fili returned the earlier favor and kissed a trail down from Kili’s neck to his chest and over his belly and lower. He felt the thin vibrations of the strained whimper that fell from Kili’s mouth and the consuming fire fanning Fili’s actions lit ablaze even brighter.

He flipped their positions and pushed Kili down onto the mattress, though it didn’t take much of an effort, not when he was willing and pliant like this. He liked it though; he liked how Kili reacted to his touches, how open his expressions were. Kili’s cock was straining, red, begging to be touched, and Fili obliged.

“If you take any longer, I’m going to die,” Kili complained.

“You can’t die of blue balls,” Fili said even as Kili groaned and pushed his head down. “Impatient, much?”

Kili growled. “When did you get so wordy?”

Fili tilted his head and licked a stripe down the side of Kili’s cock, unable to stop the grin from forming on his face when Kili’s hips bucked. One of Kili’s hands buried itself in Fili’s hair, pulling lightly on the strands. He obeyed the wordless command and took Kili into his mouth, licking and tasting as he went down the length, swallowing until he felt it bump against the back of his throat. He hummed tunelessly, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked, bobbing his head up and down on the cock in his mouth. The hand in his hair tightened.

“Oh, god—” Kili choked into a keening whine, hips bucking off the bed. Fili pushed him down effortlessly, forcing him to stay still. It wasn’t long until he felt the body below his tensing, going taut like a string. Kili’s eyes were bright and unfocused, but he stared back at Fili and he groaned, guttural and deep.

“Fili—” he said and it was the only verbal warning that Fili had before Kili was spilling into his mouth, the taste of come bitter and salty on his tongue. He swallowed it all without choking.

Kili made a strangled gasping noise, his eyes rolling into the back of his head when Fili pulled off with a bold, wet pop.

“Holy fuck,” Kili cursed in between breathy pants and yanked Fili up for a filthy opened mouthed kiss. He fumbled at Fili’s erection, having been ignored the whole time, and he gave it an experimental pump. Fili hissed at the sensation, nearly biting into Kili’s tongue. Fili could tell he had never had sex with another man before. His touches were hesitant and he didn’t quite seem to know what to do.

“Tighter,” he instructed, his voice coming out rougher and deeper than he meant it to. “Faster.”

Kili followed faultlessly and learned quickly with kisses and verbal cues as encouragement. Fili knew it was almost embarrassingly short, but after Kili got his grip just the way Fili liked it, he was coming into Kili’s hand, a high pitched moan escaping his mouth, unbidden. Kili kissed him roughly, swallowing the sound.

“Christ,” said Kili, leaning his forehead against Fili’s. They were both breathing harshly, like they’d run marathons, and Fili smiled. He pressed a kiss to Kili’s bare shoulder and stole the lone pillow on the bed to lay his head on.

“Going to regret waking up tomorrow,” Fili said with a yawn. He nearly missed the confused look Kili sent him and tapped at Kili’s jaw. “Not getting clean right after sex,” he clarified.

“Oh.” Kili looked at his hand, still covered in Fili’s come, and made a face. He wiped it off on the sheets as Fili laughed.

“Move over, pillow hog,” Kili said, wrapping sweaty limbs around Fili. He nuzzled in under the soft part of Fili’s jaw, tickling the already sensitive skin there. A hand came to rest over Fili’s waist, fingers tracing a pattern over his bare skin. It was ticklish, but he didn’t even have the energy to squirm. The fingers moved just a bit higher. Fili glanced over at Kili, but Kili wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were focused on where his fingers were.

“Will you tell me?” he asked. Fili thought that he could feel Kili tapping out a rhythm over the scar.

“One day,” Fili answered, pushing his hand into Kili’s and entwining their fingers. “Not tonight.”

Kili’s response was a humming noise as he closed his eyes, a small, silly smile on his lips. Fili was about to follow suit when he remembered the clothes they left in the living room and the opened door to Kili’s room. He turned to see, but the door was shut tight.

“Stop thinking,” Kili mumbled.

Fili frowned, not remembering when they’d closed the door. Then again, he had been too distracted by Kili; for all he knew, they could have slammed it behind them and he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

“Alright,” he agreed, yawning again. He closed his eyes and sighed, letting go of the niggling worries in the back of his mind, and slowly falling into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
